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BARON STIEGEL 


f by 

Rev. M. H. STINE, Ph.D., 

M 

Author of 

“ A Winter Jaunt Through Historic Lands," etc. 





PHILADELPHIA, PA.: 

LUTHERAN PUBLICATION o $<OCIETY. 


s>ZZ 


THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGRESS, 

Two Copies Received 

MAY 28 1903 

Copyright Entry 
CLASS XXc. No. 

: nrr 

COPY B. 


Copyright, 1903, 
BY THE 


LUTHERAN PUBLICATION SOCIETY. 


PREFACE. 


“Baron Stiegee” was written in the hope 
that, in these days, when the attainment of riches 
and fame are held up as the highest ideals of a 
truly successful life, it might be seen that God in- 
tends life on earth to be the avenue which ends at 
the gate of heaven. The story insists that virtue 
is the strength and beauty of the soul, and Chris- 
tian character the highest attainment. 

It emphasizes that failure in business and the 
loss of fortune do not necessarily make life a fail- 
ure. Its aim is to show that 

“ ’Tis only noble to be good,” 

and that 

“ Kind hearts are more than coronets 
And simple faith than Norman blood.” 

“ Baron Stiegel ” is a historical tale. The out- 
line of the story follows the historical account of 
StiegePs career. It is true that history and tra- 
dition both assert that Stiegel was twice married ; 
but, for reasons of our own, our “ Baron Stiegel ” 
marries only once. Conjugal love is unlike friend- 


preface. 


iv 

ship, in that it cannot fix itself upon more than 
one object at a time ; but, like friendship, in that 
it must have an object all the time, at least so say 
some ; but we could not bear to think that our 
“ Baron Stiegel ” should twice wed. 

History and tradition both say that Baron Stiegel 
started in business anew after his imprisonment. 
Our “ Baron Stiegel,” after his imprisonment, de- 
votes himself to the highest calling in the gift of 
man and of God, and so does not enter into the 
work again in which he had spent most of his life. 
With this exception and that of his re-marriage, 
our “ Baron Stiegel ” follows the real account of 
the life of Baron Stiegel. 

Our “ Baron Stiegel ” is, therefore, not a novel 
in the real sense of the term, but a biography, in 
which the imagination of the writer (in the ab- 
sence of the Baron’s diary and a full account of his 
life) supplies all detail. 

With these introductory words we are willing to 
send “ Baron Stiegel ” out, a drop in the vast ocean 
of literature, in the hope that he may not be en- 
gulfed in the maelstrom ; but be taken up by many 
with expectation and pursued to the end with profit. 

The Author. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

CHAPTER I. 

An Immigrant 7 

CHAPTER II. 

Getting Acquainted 13 

CHAPTER III. 

The Journey Interrupted 24 

CHAPTER IV. 

A PeoT 35 

CHAPTER V. 

Freedom 41 

CHAPTER VI. 

Elizabeth 50 

CHAPTER VII. 

A New Firm 57 

CHAPTER VIII. 

An Engagement 74 

CHAPTER IX. 

Indians 85 

CHAPTER X. 

Fritz 99 

CHAPTER XI. 

A Marriage 107 

CHAPTER XII. 

Housekeeping 118 

(V) 


VI 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

CHAPTER XIII. 

A Distinguished Visitor I2 7 

CHAPTER XIV. 

A Broken Heart 138 

CHAPTER XV. 

In Captivity i 5 2 

CHAPTER XVI. 

Manheim 162 

CHAPTER XVII. 

Friends * 17 1 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

An Odd Enemy 184 

CHAPTER XIX. 

Losses 197 

CHAPTER XX. 

Home 207 

CHAPTER XXI. 

Important Events 228 

CHAPTER XXII. 

In Prison 244 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

Deliverance 260 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

A Preacher 276 

CHAPTER XXV. 

Reverses 292 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

Victory . . . , f , 305 


BARON STIEGEL 


CHAPTER I. 

AN IMMIGRANT. 

One evening in the latter part of July, 1750, a 
vessel, which in those early days was considered a 
very fine ship, was lazily borne through the Dela- 
ware Breakwater, on its way to Philadelphia, by 
the incoming tide. The vessel had four masts, 
fore and main top sails, and topgallant sails, all of 
which were neatly furled now, inasmuch as the sea- 
breeze had ceased to blow and its more gentle com- 
panion, the land-breeze, had not yet even begun to 
kiss the quiet waters into gentle ripples. This ves- 
sel, the “ Nancy,” from Rotterdam, had guns in 
broadsides as well as one in the bow and another in 
the stern. It is true, the nations of Europe were 
just then at peace with each other, under the spell 
of the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, which had been 
ratified two years before, yet nearly all vessels car- 
ried armament. 

The voyage of the “ Nancy ” had been short 

(7) 


8 


BARON STIEGEE. 


when compared with voyages in those days. It 
was the season of the year when the wind breathes 
softly on the waters of the ocean, scarce stirring 
them into ripples. The sun had shone from a 
cloudless sky for almost every day of the more 
than four weeks’ voyage, so that our ship had as 
little use for her lifeboats as she had for her guns. 

It is not in the vessel herself that we are inter- 
ested. In fact, we would not have called attention 
either to the ship or to this particular voyage, or 
her approach to what was then already the first city 
of the Colonies, were it not that we are interested 
in one of the little company of passengers, on 
board at this particular time. This passenger, at 
the time the vessel was lazily borne through the 
Narrows, by the incoming tide, is standing at the 
prow of the ship, eagerly looking toward the shore 
of what to him was an entirely new world, a world 
which he was not about to visit for a brief season ; 
but a world which was to be his home for the re- 
mainder of his life. No wonder, therefore, that he 
gazed eagerly toward the new and strange scenes 
before him. The light blue eyes, and flaxen hair 
curling gracefully around his wide forehead, make 
it easy to determine his nationality. Although he 
has sailed from Rotterdam, in the Netherlands, his 
home from his earliest youth has been in the beau- 


AN IMMIGRANT. 


9 


tiful little city of Mannheim, Germany. His fea- 
tures are regular, his lips are thin, and when closed 
form but a red line under his sharp nose. By this 
description we do not wish to intimate that the 
young man had what the great English poet is 
pleased to call a “ February face, so full of frost, of 
storm, and cloudiness,” but you, kind reader, may 
as well know now, in this introduction, that our 
friend had a will of his own, a hot temper, which 
had frequently broken the barriers set up by good 
resolutions. 

Outside of the fact that the features mentioned 
proclaimed their possessor’s having a mind and will 
of his own, the face had no story to tell. It indi- 
cated a history neither romantic nor prosaic. The 
reason this face had no story to tell is because the 
soul mirrored therein had as yet experienced few of 
the trials and heartaches, the disappointments and 
sorrows which bring hard lines and pinched fea- 
tures. Whilst this is all true concerning the face 
of our young immigrant, we must admit that no life 
which has existed twenty-three years in this world, 
as had this one, is wholly without the effects of the 
scenes through which it has passed, stamped in the 
lineaments of the countenance. Then, too, this face 
reflected, as do all faces, some of the distinguishing 
characteristics of its ancestors. This face bore evi- 


10 


BARON STIEGEE. 


dences of belonging to a long line of noble and in- 
telligent ancestors. Some men are called noble- 
men, but their lives give very little evidence of 
true nobility, and their children bear all the stains 
of the sins of the parents ; but this man’s ancestors 
were noble both in name and character. 

In determining the character of a man, we must 
know something of the religion of his ancestry. 
There is nothing in all this world which can make 
up for the lack of pious home-training. The 
Christian parent wins the heart of his child for 
God when he, day by day, leads him to the family 
altar, and teaches him his dependence upon God. 
This young man had a large fortune, as we shall 
presently see ; but by far his greatest wealth lay in 
his Christian ancestry, which had implanted the 
fear of God in his own heart, in his earliest youth. 
He belonged to a family which had embraced the 
Lutheran faith before our friend was born. It had 
cost them not a little to worship God according to 
the dictates of their own conscience, and for this 
reason they prized their faith very highly. 

The young man himself scarcely realized what 
his forefathers had paid for the privilege he was 
now enjoying, although he did know something of 
the horrors of war. Though he was no more than 
ten years of age when the Austrian War broke out, 


AN IMMIGRANT. 


II 


he was old enough to see and appreciate its devas- 
tation and horrors. He little thought that day, as 
he was approaching his new world, that ere many 
years a nation would be born therein which would 
outstrip his Fatherland in almost every element of 
true greatness. In the life of nations and individ- 
uals God has seen best to let the years unfold all 
their strange and stirring history. 

In every life the three great factors in the pro- 
duction of character are the home, the age, and the 
country of a man’s birth. We have already seen 
that our friend was born in a Christian home, and 
in a land and in an age when and where God in 
His providence had laid the foundation of a new 
and grand development. If our friend had re- 
mained in the land of his birth, surrounded by the 
influences which had gained an imperishable hold 
upon him, it would have been comparatively easy 
to predict his future ; but in a new world, under 
new and strange influences, even these early im- 
pressions might, to some degree, fade in the trying 
light of his new surroundings. He 'himself could 
scarcely comprehend that he was entering a veri- 
tably New World — new from the fact that it was the 
last discovered, and until recently unsettled ; new, 
because its great forests and mighty treeless plains 
were still untrodden in all their vastness ; new, be- 


12 


BARON STIEGEL. 


cause the rich treasures hidden away in its mines, 
treasures which were to revise the Old World’s 
commerce, yea, its very life, were unknown ; new, 
because it was already becoming an asylum for the 
persecuted and the oppressed of the Old World. 
Because all this was true, we may not be able to 
illumine the life-path which our friend is about to 
enter, so that we can read all its glory or its trials 
in store for him who still stands, in this the open- 
ing chapter of our narrative, on board the “ Nancy,” 
at her entrance into port. Be this as it may, we 
will predict, in the language of the illustrious 
apostle to the Gentiles, that our friend, in this New 
World, will often be “in perils of rivers, in perils 
of robbers, in perils from his own countrymen, in 
perils from the Gentiles (Indians), in perils in the 
city, in perils in the wilderness, in perils among 
false brethren, in weariness and painfulness, in 
watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings 
often, in cold and nakedness.” This we predict, 
although we know that his life will not be so noble, 
nor will his impression upon the ages be so deep, so 
powerful, in any one respect, as has been the life of 
the illustrious apostle from whose writings we have 
just quoted. Whilst we admit all this, we never- 
theless insist that his life is truly worthy of a place 
among the pioneers, the patriots, and the pious. 


CHAPTER II. 


GETTING ACQUAINTED. 

Our young friend was soon safely landed in Phil- 
adelphia. There was not, in those days, the long 
line of coaches, the jingle of bells, the scream of 
whistles, and the hoarse cries of men shouting the 
names of hotels, which now inundate the ears of 
the arrival in the City of Brotherly L,ove, whether 
he comes by land or by sea. In those days there 
were no surging streams of humanity, and no long 
lines of street cars, drays, coaches, hansoms, and 
what not, that now intercept the way of the trav- 
eler. The young immigrant was soon safely estab- 
lished in comfortable quarters. In those early days 
no custom-house officer boarded the incoming ves- 
sel when it was still far from its pier, to compel 
every passenger to declare that he had or had not 
anything dutiable, and then, before he could leave 
the pier, subject all his baggage to a rigid examina- 
tion. It has always been a question in our mind 
why the United States government pays these men 
to board ships and get the affidavits of passengers, 
( r 3) 


i4 


BARON STIEGEE. 


and then, as soon as those passengers come on 
shore, pay no attention whatever to what the pas- 
sengers a few moments before had affirmed. 

Our friend had letters of introduction to several 
of the most prominent families in the city, and it 
was not many days before he presented himself at 
their homes. It is needless to say that they re- 
ceived him cordially. Already, in those early days, 
the poorest who came to the New World were de- 
prived of the little property they possessed, where 
that was possible, and they themselves enslaved to 
serve weary years to earn their passage money. 
This form of slavery has now been changed into 
another which is just as oppressive. We refer to 
the thousands who enter the sweat-shops of our great 
cities, glad to work, fourteen and more hours per 
day, in order that they may earn enough to keep 
body and soul together. Of those who were sold for 
their passage money, in those early days, many in 
a few years became their own masters, and soon ac- 
quired land which made them and their posterity 
rich. 

We have said our friend was well received 
wherever he introduced himself. It was because 
the people of Philadelphia were more hospitable in 
those days than they are now, and because of the 
nature of the letters this man presented. His 


getting acquainted. 


15 


newly made friends feasted him in their homes, 
and showed him about the young giant of the New 
World with a becoming pride. “ This,” said they, 
“is, and always will be, the metropolis of this 
Western world.” 

It is true, the growth of the town had been mar- 
velous. In 1683 it contained only a few houses — 
three or four. In two years afterward, it had 
already 600 houses, and, in one year more, it had 
outgrown its older sister, New York. At the time 
our friend arrived in Philadelphia, it still was the 
great seaport of America ; but it was not long be- 
fore it was compelled to yield the palm to its more 
favorably situated neighbor. 

Our friend also had letters of introduction to 
representative families in the latter city. It was 
only a few months, therefore, after his arrival, until 
he planned to go to visit the fat old Dutch burghers 
to whom he had the letters of introduction. In those 
days people went from Philadelphia to New York 
in the heavy lumbering stage-coach. It required 
two days to make the journey, which is now made, 
with incomparably more ease and- comfort, in two 
hours. We wish we could here introduce a hair- 
breadth escape from the Redman’s tomahawk or 
the highwayman’s blunderbuss. Adventures such 
as these will, no doubt, come to our friend, again 


i6 


BARON STIEGEE. 


and again, in his life in the wilds of America, but 
they did not come to him in this journey. The 
Redman seldom gave the passengers on the stage- 
coaches between the two cities any trouble. The 
civilization of the country had scarcely advanced 
far enough at that early period to afford the luxury 
of the well-armed and systematic highwayman of 
the Old World. 

Edward Moore, wdio wrote in England in 1753 
of the danger attending a stage-coach journey in 
those days, says : “It required as much courage for 
a journey from London to Bath as in the march 
from Carlisle to Cullodon.” He makes us believe 
that the highwayman was an institution especially 
connected with the stage-coach. Knight tells us, 
in his History of England, that even at that early 
period he had been growing in power for many 
years. “ He was in his most high and palmy state 
when Fielding had ceased to write and George III. 
began to reign. In 1761 the flying highwayman 
1 engrosses the conversation of most of the towns 
within twenty miles of London. He robs upon 
three different horses, a gray, a sorrel, and a black 
one. He has leaped over Colnbrook Turnpike a 
dozen times within this fortnight ’ ” (History of 
England, Vol. 6, p. 393). 

Everything is done on a bigger scale in these 


getting acquainted. 17 

opening days of the twentieth century than it was 
in the eighteenth. There are few first-class rob- 
bers who are content to waylay the stage-coach un- 
less they are getting rusty for want of bigger jobs, 
or are assured beforehand that there is large booty 
to be had. The flying express train, with its hun- 
dreds and thousands, alone satisfies the ambition of 
the modern robber. Our friend did not suffer at 
the hands of any highwayman, as we have already 
asserted. In due time he arrived in New York. 

We will not attempt to describe the city of those 
early da^s. Suffice it to say, that if any of the fat 
old Dutch burghers who were, the day our friend 
arrived, lounging on the corners, could return 
to-day to the great metropolis, they would not 
know the old localities. The very soil upon which 
they trod lies buried many feet beneath the surface 
of the ground upon which the modern city stands. 
The alluvial sand beds, the marshes, and ponds 
which covered the southern part of the island have 
all disappeared. What was once the site of the 
“ Collect Pond,” into which the filth of New York 
was drained, is now a collect pond of a different 
sort. The grim old Tombs Prison, which stands 
on the site of the “ Collect Pond,” has for many 
years been the receptacle for the moral filth 
of the city. Nor does that filth always flow from 
2 


BARON STIEGEL. 


18 

the lower stratas of society. It often comes from 
the mansion instead of the hovel. Tike all filth, 
it is just as obnoxious when it comes from the 
upper strata as when it comes from the slums. 

In those early days there was nothing in the archi- 
tecture of either Philadelphia or New York which 
was very different from corresponding cities of the 
Old World. The houses were frame, with the excep- 
tion of the one gable which faced the street. That 
was of small yellow or black brick, imported from 
Holland. The date and the name of the person who 
erected the building was put into this gable, in the 
most ornate manner. 

It did not take our friend long to see New York, 
and to make up his mind that he preferred Phila- 
delphia for his home. We do not know what were 
the reasons for this preference. It may be that he 
had already formed friendships in the City of 
Brotherly hove, or that he had already concluded 
that he would be able to make better investments 
there. Be this as it may, it was only two short 
months until Baron Stiegel (for such the illustrious 
personage of whom we write all this actually is) was 
ready to return to the city upon whose streets he 
first trod on his arrival in this country. 

The journey back to Philadelphia was as un- 
eventful as the one to New York had been. On 


getting acquainted. 19 

his arrival at Germantown he for the first time 
looked into the face of a man whom he had known 
in the Old World. What is more, this man was 
from Stiegel’s native city. To look into the face 
of almost anyone whom Stiegel had known in his 
own home would have been a welcome sight in this 
strange land ; but a look at this face was anything 
but welcome. Had this face belonged to a fierce 
highwayman, known and dreaded throughout the 
whole colony of Penn, had the owner of this face 
sought the gold of Stiegel, with a murderous dirk 
uplifted to strike at the heart, it would not have 
caused him half the consternation which one glance 
at this face caused him. 

Bulwer-Tytton says : “ Whatever the number of 
a man’s friends, there will be times in his life when 
he has one too few ; but if he has only one enemy, 
he is lucky indeed if he has not one too many.” 
Baron Stiegel had few enemies ; but of all he had, 
this man was his most lasting, his bitterest, and, as 
we shall see throughout this narrative, his most hurt- 
ful. It does not become us here to state how this 
enemy had been made, what strange providence had 
brought him to Germantown before Baron Stiegel 
himself arrived there. That he was there was not 
to be mistaken by Stiegel. He had looked into his 
face, and his enemy had recognized him. The 


20 


BARON STIEGEL. 


enemy had allowed his eyes to wander in a careless 
and listless manner over the little company of pas- 
sengers, as the stage rolled up to the hotel ; but 
when his eyes caught sight of Stiegel, the latter 
saw him start, then look away, as if he hoped that 
he might not be recognized by Stiegel. Then, 
after this startled look into vacancy, Stiegel saw 
him give another more searching look which 
amounted to a stare. As he looked the Baron saw 
his eyebrows knit and his lips tightly compress. He 
then turned upon his heel and walked slowly to 
the other side of the house. 

Baron Stiegel was not an expert student of char- 
acter, but he saw in the countenance of his enemy 
that a resolution had been formed in his heart 
which was not by any means to add to the happi- 
ness of the Baron’s life. Our friend did not think 
as seriously in those days as he was led to think a 
few months afterward ; but he could not help ask- 
ing himself what strange destiny was pursuing 
him in the presence of this man in the land of 
his adoption. He did not particularly fear this 
man, but he knew enough of him to believe that 
from henceforth he was to have a presence hover- 
ing near him which would perhaps try to strike 
him to the earth, or, what was more probable, try to 
distill poison into his cup of happiness at every op- 


getting acquainted. 


21 


portunity, and thwart all his plans for a truly suc- 
cessful career. Baron Stiegel knew his danger in 
this enemy, and he would have bought him with 
his gold had that been possible. 

Baron Stiegel stopped at the principal inn in the 
city. At present the high-gabled little stone struc- 
ture where the Baron lodged would attract few 
guests, and those would not be the rich and in- 
fluential ; but it was different in the latter half of 
the eighteenth century. This building then was 
the largest public house in the city. Its landlord 
and landlady, being childless, sober, and indus- 
trious, as well as strictly honest, were ever inter- 
ested in their guests. It did not take them long to 
know their guests, and those whom they considered 
deserving they treated as friends, rather than as 
guests. 

In those days of peace and sunshine, a passion 
for cleanliness found a home in the breast of every 
Quaker in the City of Brotherly L,ove. They vied 
with their Dutch neighbors in keeping things clean. 
The great parlor, which occupied the whole of the 
second floor, was open to permanent guests only, 
who had already given proof of their worthiness 
to enter this sanctum sanctorum. When there 
were no such guests, it was difficult to imagine of 
what earthly use the great room was outside of 


22 


BARON STIEGEL. 


being held in readiness for the next permanent 
boarder and for the lady of the house to spend her 
spare time in hunting for spiders and for the slight- 
est speck of dirt. Only once a week was the par- 
lor entered in the absence of the guests mentioned, 
and then only by the landlady and her most trusted 
maid, when she had more than one maid, which 
was scarcely ever the case. On such occasions the 
shoes of the cleaners were left at the door, lest 
they should bring more dirt than they removed. 
This custom has not entirely died out among our 
thrifty Pennsylvania German housewives. There 
are still many parlors into which the daughters of 
the home bring even their most favorite gentleman 
callers with hesitancy. By far the greatest part of 
the first story of our largest farm-houses is closed to 
everybody during the whole week. The family 
and their help cook and eat in a little out-house so 
as to be able to keep the main house clean ! 

In the hotel of which we are speaking, and in 
nearly all buildings of the period, there was one 
room which was open to everybody. This was the 
large dining-room, with its great open fireplace. In 
this room all the guests, as well as the proprietor 
and his household, gathered. Here Baron Stiegel 
had many happy hours during the first winter of 
his residence in America. It was in the dining-room 


getting acquainted. 23 

of the hotel that the Baron recounted some of his 
own adventures to his friends, the landlord and his 
wife ; for be it known right here that the Baron 
spent the first two years of his stay in the New 
World in traveling about in search of suitable 
places for the profitable investment of the great 
wealth which he possessed. 


CHAPTER HI. 


THE JOURNEY INTERRUPTED. 

WE have seen that Baron Stiegel landed in Phila- 
delphia in 1750. Less than four years after his 
arrival in the New World the first volley of the 
French and Indian War went flying on its mission 
of death. It marked the beginning of a new era 
for the inhabitants of what was once Penn’s Woods. 
From henceforth they were to realize the horrors 
of Indian warfare from which two generations had 
been spared. It is true that, because of the treaty 
into which the Indian nations of the whole of 
Eastern Pennsylvania had entered three-quarters 
of a century before the French and Indian War, 
no blood had been shed in Indian warfare. The 
famous Quaker had said : “ Between us there shall 

be nothing but openness and love.” To this the 
chiefs replied : “ While the rivers run and the sun 

shines we will live in peace with the children of 
William Penn.” The old chiefs were now long 
since dead. The generation following did not for- 

(24) 


THE JOURNEY INTERRUPTED. 25 

get the vows of their fathers ; but times and men 
had changed, and the blood of many a white man 
was shed by the Redman’s scalping knife in the 
territory of Pennsylvania during the French and 
Indian War. The fierce war-whoop was heard on 
both sides of the Schuylkill as well as of the Sus- 
quehanna. Whole families were butchered, plan- 
tations were laid waste, buildings burned, and the 
fruit of many years’ hard toil destroyed, and the 
hopes of a generation blasted. We who enjoy the 
results of those years of anxious and bloody war, in 
which the very existence of the English and Ger- 
man settlers on this American Continent was in 
jeopardy, can little realize what our forefathers en- 
dured. 

It was at the beginning of these troublous times 
that Baron Stiegel began that series of excursions 
into the country between the Delaware and the 
Susquehanna which finally resulted in the invest- 
ment of all the wealth he possessed. In these ex- 
cursions he was always accompanied by a well- 
armed retinue, but, even with this precaution, many 
of his journeys were made at the imminent peril 
of his life. In order that the reader may realize 
that we are not exaggerating, we append an abstract 
of an order sent from what is now the city of 
Easton by Governor Demmy to Colonel Armstrong. 


26 


BARON STIEGEL. 


It is an exact transcription from the Colonial 
Records, and is as follows : 

Easton, Nov. — , 1756. 

Sir, 

I have received accounts of Murders committed 
by Parties of Indians all along the Front of Berks 
Co., from Manda Gap to the line of Northampton 
Co., and by their dress, part of which is red hats 
and Red Blankets, it is supposed that these mur- 
derous Indians came from the Ohio. As they may 
now or will in a little time be returning, they may 
be intercepted, their Prisoners, scalps and Plunder 
taken from them, and they destroyed. I therefore 
order you to send such Forces under your com- 
mand as will be the most likely to meet with them 
in their return. . . . Let me know what you 

do in consequence of this Letter ; the last mischief 
was done on Saturday at the East end of Berks 
Co., on the line of Northampton Co. 

With this introduction the reader is now pre- 
pared to credit the account of the experience of 
Stiegel and his party on one of their trips into the 
interior. Let us begin, therefore, by saying that it 
was in the month of October of 1751 that Baron 
Stiegel, with a good escort, left the streets of Phila- 
delphia for an extended journey West. He had 
not been idle for the more than twelve months 
since his arrival in the New World. He had 
learned the customs of the country. He had even 
studied the English language, and had become pro- 


THE JOURNEY INTERRUPTED. 


27 


ficient in reading and writing it. He now felt 
himself fully able to begin his business career. He 
had heard of valuable deposits of iron ore, and of 
several furnaces already in operation, in Lancaster 
County, and he resolved to see for himself. 

To one reared in the crowded cities of the Old 
World, in a country where timber for ages already 
has been scarce, and where the forests, that are still 
to be seen, are forbidden territory, because they 
are the private parks and hunting grounds of the 
nobility, the boundless woods of Penn were a never- 
failing source of wonder and admiration. The 
deep dark green of oak and chestnut, pine and 
spruce, whilst their labyrinthian maze filled the 
soul with a sense of loneliness and dread, also pos- 
sessed charming beauty, cooling shadows, fragrant 
bowers filled with life-giving ozone. 

In their depths the rising and setting suns, with 
their long pencils of silvery or golden light broken 
a thousand times as they pierced their way through 
the maze of trunks and bough and foliage, filled the 
soul of the traveler with sensations of the weird, 
as well as the beautiful and the sublime, as he 
emerged out of one shaded depth to be lost in an- 
other, or perhaps to step into a clearing (for nature 
herself had her clearings before the woodman’s axe 
disturbed the giants of the forest, or devastating 


28 


BARON STIEGEE. 


fires, kindled by the hand of man, choked in patches 
the life of the woods), whose dazzling light con- 
veyed the cheering news that the sun had not left 
the day to twilight alternated with ebon night. 

Baron Stiegel had received all the culture which 
the best of schools could give. In addition to this 
he possessed a deeply religious and poetic nature. 
It is no wonder, therefore, that the forest scenes of 
America charmed him. His soul drank deeply at 
the virgin fountains the draught which he could 
not have received from nature’s hand in a land 
where art has dispossessed her of her charms. 

There were roads in those early days leading from 
Philadelphia to the settlements which had been 
planted in the forests of Penn. Most of these 
settlements were made near the larger towns, 
Lancaster, Reading, York, and others. The early 
settlers felt safer in the vicinity of towns. Be- 
sides this feeling of safety there was the assurance 
of near markets for the produce which nature 
brought forth at their bidding in great abundance. 
The colony of Penn was peculiarly favorable to the 
early settlers. Its founder had purchased from the 
Indians not only the broad acres which they had 
never tilled, but also their good-will. Then, too, 
Pennsylvania possessed rich soil, and a climate 
which was a delightful medium between the rigorous 


THE JOURNEY INTERRUPTED. 29 

winters of New England and the continuous warm 
of Virginia and Georgia. For these reasons peace 
and prosperity smiled upon the sturdy yeoman of 
the rich valleys of Pennsylvania for more than 
three-fourths of a century after the famous treaty by 
Penn. But we have already seen that perilous times 
were now in store for the hitherto quiet settlements. 

On the particular journey of Stiegel, the events 
of which we are about to narrate in this chapter, 
he and his escort followed the road leading from 
Philadelphia to Lancaster. Over this road the 
merchandise and produce which prospered both 
city and hamlet had passed for the last fifty years 
in ever-increasing quantities. It was considered 
both safe and pleasant. No doubt if our friends 
had confined their journey to this road they would 
have had none of the dire experiences here recorded. 
They were not satisfied after having spent a day in 
Lancaster. They heard of the rich soil of the 
valley which they had left further east in this very 
journey ; they, therefore, resolved to push across the 
mountains, whose green summits were indistinctly 
visible in the distance, and enter the rich valley on 
the other side. 

They took with them an additional guide from 
the vicinity of Lancaster. This was none other 
than a trusted Indian who was thoroughly familiar 


30 


BARON STIEGEL. 


with the country for many miles. The distance 
between Lancaster and the Lebanon Valley could 
easily be traversed in a day, even when we take 
into consideration that, from the beginning of the 
hills into the valley beyond, the road was a mere 
trail. It was already past noon when our travelers 
gained their first view of what is now the garden- 
spot of the Lebanon Valley. Now the smoke of 
Lebanon’s industries floats heavenward. Then our 
travelers beheld only a little clearing in the pri- 
meval forest. As far as the eye could reach they 
beheld an almost unbroken expanse of green tree- 
tops, which at a distance looked like a vast ocean, 
stilled as if in expectation of the oncoming tide of 
industry which now fills the valley. 

As they were gazing spellbound with the view, 
other eyes than theirs were also looking, but the 
centre of their attraction was the observer and not 
what they observed. When at last the Baron and 
his party were done feasting their eyes on the scene 
before them, they began to descend the mountain. 
They had not gone far before they were met by 
two old Indians. The member of the tribe of 
Conestogas whom our friends had with them could 
understand the strangers little better than the 
Baron and the rest of his party, who did not under- 
stand them at all. They at first pretended to know 


THE JOURNEY INTERRUPTED. 3 1 

the country well, and offered to guide our friends 
to the next settlement, but, when they learned that 
this ruse would not work, they asked for rum and 
tobacco. Stiegel and his party had not much of 
either, but what they had they reluctantly shared. 
Then the old men disappeared into the depths of 
the forest. 

The Indian who was with our friends told Stiegel 
that he feared that these Redmen belonged to a 
party of marauders aud murderers, and that he 
himself would not vouch for their safe return to 
the settlement. He advised them to press forward 
at all hazards, but Baron Stiegel insisted that they 
should pause to rest their animals and refresh 
themselves with some provisions and coffee which 
they had brought with them. The Indian guide 
thereupon pre-emptorily refused to go with them 
any further. Whilst they were at their repast they 
discovered that he was no longer with them. They 
were not disturbed by his strange action, but felt 
that they would be able to find their way into 
the valley without a guide. Whilst they were 
quietly discussing the situation they were suddenly 
surrounded by a band of Indians. The white men 
had carelessly stacked their arms at a tree, so that 
they were almost unarmed with the exception of 
their knives ; but even if they would have had their 


32 


BARON STIEGEL. 


guns, they would have proven their destruction 
rather than their safety. It is always a calamity 
to fall into the hands of an enemy, but it is doubly 
so when that enemy is dead to the noblest feelings 
of the heart, and more savage and cunning than 
the wild beast of the forest. Stiegel did not at first 
recognize the danger of his situation, nor did he 
credit the stories which he had heard of the cold- 
blooded savagery of these wild men of North 
America. 

Our friends made no resistance, because they 
realized that they were in the forest, miles away 
from any white men, and that the savages num- 
bered three times as many as they. They tried to 
barter their watches, tobacco, knives, coats, in fact 
everything they could spare, for their liberty, but 
these articles were no sooner offered than they 
were seized by the savages, without restoring those 
to whom they belonged to liberty. The captives’ 
hands were bound behind them with deer-skin 
sinews. The Indians mounted the horses, the 
chief choosing that of the Baron for himself. The 
unmounted Indians and the prisoners then took up 
their march in front of those on horseback. They 
marched toward the setting sun, keeping well in 
the depth of the forest. They were compelled to 
march at a gait painfully rapid. When they lagged 


THE JOURNEY INTERRUPTED. 33 

in the least they were threatened with the toma- 
hawk and the scalping knife. These were powerful 
incentives to the prisoners to keep up their gait 
and their strength. When evening came, and the 
last rays of the autumn sun darted among the 
giants of the forest, our friends were further in the 
wilderness than they had been in the early after- 
noon when they were deserted by their guide. It 
was evident to the prisoners that their captors were 
anxious to reach the banks of the Susquehanna, 
and more anxious to avoid all white settlements. 
They had some booty, but no prisoners besides the 
Baron and his party. They were evidently a part 
of a larger band of savages whom they might meet 
at any moment. 

When the Indians finally halted, they ate all the 
food which the white men had remaining, and gave 
the prisoners some parched corn — the first the 
Baron had ever tasted; but, hunger being the 
mother of a good appetite, it tasted quite well. 
Whilst they ate the prisoners were unbound, but 
when the meal was over the cruel thongs were 
tightly drawn, and, what was worse, their feet were 
also bound, and in a sitting posture they were 
lashed to trees. All the Indians then threw them- 
selves on the ground and were soon fast asleep, 
with one exception. To this one the guarding of 
3 


34 


BARON STIEGEL. 


the prisoners was evidently assigned. This fellow, 
although he did not stir from his position, seemed 
lynx-eyed. In this unhappy condition we must 
leave our friends for the present. It is safe to say 
that never in all their lives were they more miser- 
able. Never did death attended by horrible tortures 
seem more imminent. 


CHAPTER IV. 


A PLOT. 

It is characteristic of the wicked to plot mischief. 
They can nearly always invent a good excuse for 
their evil undertakings. Either they do it from a 
spirit of revenge, or they imagine necessity compels 
them to do evil. Their lot has fallen among men 
more wicked than themselves, and they must take 
care of their own interests. This is the excuse the 
Nihilist of to-day gives for his evil designs and 
practices. The truth of the matter is, the wicked 
“ eat the bread of wickedness and drink the wine 
of violence,” because they love it, and not because 
they are compelled by the force of circumstances. 

Such being the nature of evil-doers, it is easy to 
account for the fact that at the same time that 
Baron Stiegel and his companions were in the 
hands of savages, and momentarily awaiting death, 
there were gathered in a house on the most disrep- 
utable street in Philadelphia six men. Everyone 
of these men held between his teeth the stem of a 
long Dutch pipe, from the bowl of which issued an 
occasional whiff of smoke when the worthy who 
( 35 ) 


36 


BARON STIEGEL. 


held the mouth-piece was so busily engaged in con- 
versation that he did not find time to draw on the 
pipe. Upon the table around which the men were 
gathered there were several bottles of rum in vari- 
ous states of depletion. It would have been better 
even in the plans for robbery and murder if these 
men had been without the influence of drink, for 
the man who is under the power of drink will 
attempt deeds of madness which in his sober 
moments he would consider unwise to hazard. 
Drunkenness may “disclose secrets, ratify hopes, 
and urge the unarmed to battle,” but it also defeats 
armies and makes void the possibility of conceiv- 
ing rational plans for the works of darkness. 

These six men to which we refer are scarcely 
worthy of a description. Suffice to say that some 
are old in crime and vice ; others have just begun 
to tread the road which has but one ending for all 
who walk therein. At least one of the six has 
already lain in wait for the belated traveler upon the 
streets of the Old World, and on one occasion dyed 
his steel in the life-blood of his victim. To escape 
the gallows he left his native land in the guise of a 
sailor, but at the end of his first voyage he has 
seen fit to abandon the sea. In the two years of 
his sojourn in the New World he has not yet been 
able to follow his old life to his fullest satisfaction. 


A PLOT. 


37 


A few dollars have time and again found their way 
from the pockets of honest people into his posses- 
sion, but he has not thus far given his evil nature 
its full swing. As the snail leaves the disagreeable 
evidences of its presence wherever it drags its slimy 
lengths, so this man has corrupted the lives of all 
who have permitted his associations for any length 
of time. His conscience, though seared, has time 
and again awakened him from his ease, but, like all 
unrepentant evil-doers, he has lulled it to sleep by 
various excuses and sensual gratifications. 

Another of these worthies, the leader and chief 
spokesman on the present occasion, has become the 
boon companion of the murderer to whom we have 
just referred. He is now seeking to outdo his 
teacher and companion. In addition to his love for 
evil deeds, he is now persuading himself that he can 
glut a fierce revenge which with its blear eyes and 
skeleton hands is beckoning him on to a satiety 
which can only be found, he well knows, in the ruin, 
if not murder, of the man he hates. He has been 
driven to this hatred, he tries to persuade himself, 
by the conduct of the man who was, even at the 
moment of this meeting and planning for revenge, 
less in dread of old enemies than of the cruel foe at 
whose hands he was momentarily awaiting the most 
horrible of deaths. 


38 


BARON STIEGKR. 


After some moments of silence, during which the 
men were taking constant draughts of both pipe and 
bottles, this man, who was trying to imagine him- 
self a just nemesis, addressed his companions by 
way of assurance for their co-operation in the plans 
they had been laying by saying, “ Ich kann mich 
auf euch verlassen ? ” (I can depend upon you ?) 

The others in chorus replied, “ Gewisz.” (Cer- 
tainly.) 

We will not burden onr readers with the conver- 
sation which had preceded the answer just given to 
the question of the leader. Suffice to say that the 
man against whom they had been plotting was 
none other than the chief of the prisoners bound to 
the trees by savage tormentors. Perhaps if the men 
addressed had known that Stiegel was even then 
in such peril they would have been glad. Perhaps 
even the leader would have been satisfied. 

The man who was trying to excuse his deviltry, 
on the plea of gratifying what he considered a just 
revenge, had carefully selected his men from among 
their brethren in evil, and had invited them to his 
quarters. He had furnished them with tobacco and 
rum, and when their spirits had been sufficiently fired 
with the spirits from the bottles, he prepared them 
for his plans by telling them how hard they had 
toiled in America ever since their arrival, and how 


A PLOT. 


39 


they had nothing to show for their work. Others 
had not worked near so hard and had already laid 
the foundation for large fortunes. Was it right 
that some men should be servants all their lives, 
whilst others rolled in wealth ? Thus gradually he 
had prepared them for the business he had in hand 
for them. Baron Stiegel, he said, was one of those 
men who had come to America for the avowed pur- 
pose of becoming rich, and of defrauding those whom 
he owed on the other side of the waters. Why not 
waylay him on one of his tours about the country, 
and rob him of the money which he felt sure the 
Baron always carried ? It did not belong to him 
any more than it would to them after they should 
secure it. These excursions into the vast unin- 
habited regions were to be frequent, he had learned 
from a man who was in the employ of the person 
from whom Stiegel hired his horses. If they could 
not succeed at one time, they might at another. 
He persuaded himself that he could wait for his 
revenge until the most favorable time. 

Our readers by this time infer who this worthy 
plunderer is. They know that it is none other 
than the man who first scowled at the Baron before 
he knew that he had a single enemy in the New 
World. He said they would mask themselves, and, if 
the slightest suspicion attached to them, they could 


40 


BARON STIEGEL. 


leave the colony after a fair division of the spoils. 
In his own mind he felt that he had sufficient ex- 
cuse to kill the nobleman and all his escort, pro- 
vided the occasion demanded it. To his compan- 
ions, he said, the work could be done without much 
danger. At one of their camping places they could 
come suddenly upon the company, deprive them 
of the use of their weapons, and then, after the 
robbery, as suddenly leave them. He mocked their 
fears, and smiled with scorn when his fellows ob- 
jected that they would necessarily run big risks. 
Thus he, being himself a coward, illustrated the 
truth of Shakespeare when he says : 

“ How many cowards, whose hearts are all as false 
As stairs of sand, wear yet upon their chins 
The beards of Hercules and frowning Mars ; 

Who, inward searched, have livers white as milk ? ” 

Bad as several of these men were, we repeat, 
Fritz would have had hard work to convince them 
of the safety and large returns from their contem- 
plated deeds of violence, had he not furnished 
bottles as well as plans. 

We shall see whether these plans were ever car- 
ried out — whether, in fact, the man upon whom 
Fritz wished to wreak his vengeance had not 
already passed beyond his power. 


CHAPTER V. 


FREEDOM. 

WE have already seen that after the thongs of 
our friends were tightened and the additional pre- 
caution taken of tying them to trees so as to pre- 
vent their escape, the savages all smoked their 
pipes for a little while, and then one by one 
dropped off into sound sleep. One savage alone re- 
mained wide awake ; but he, though lynx-eyed, 
seemed to use his ears more than his eyes in the 
discharge of his duty as guard. 

All was silent now. The bit of fire which the 
Indians had kindled immediately on their going 
into camp had been carefully extinguished, as if 
they feared that, even in the darkness of the night, 
the pillar of ascending smoke might guide some 
avenging nemesis to the spot. The pale moonlight, 
rifted by the interlacing branches of the trees, stole 
like spirit sentinels into the camp, and kissed both 
prisoners and sleeping savages so gently that even 
those who were kept awake by the cruel thongs 
that bound them scarcely perceived the pure white 

(41) 


42 


BARON STIEGEE. 


light among the dark shadows. Out in a little 
clearing not far from the camp, the scene was 
almost as brilliant as day. To that open spot the 
eyes of the prisoners were directed more than once, 
as if they expected some friend to cross the open 
space and rush to their deliverance ; or, perhaps, 
they hoped that the pure white light of the moon 
would change into some ministering spirit, to set 
them free and lead them forth into civilization. 
The night was still, save when the solemn quaver 
of an owl broke the awful silence. Evidently the 
savages thought they had taken all the precautions 
necessary to keep their prisoners ; for they were 
now all sleeping heavily. Even the sentinel sat 
quietly. Only once did he rise and walk toward 
the place where the remainder of the spirits and 
tobacco of the travelers lay. He helped himself 
eagerly to the bottle, and then resumed his former 
place on the ground. 

Though the body of the Baron was bound, his 
soul was free. Man, be he savage or free, has 
never yet invented fetters to bind the soul, unless 
the captive himself was willing to be thus bound. 
Memory, imagination, and reflection are as free as 
the affections, to go where and when they please. 
Whatever may have filled the thoughts of his fel- 
low-prisoners, the Baron’s thoughts went back to 


FREEDOM. 


43 


his childhood home. Every unkind word he had 
ever spoken seemed now to come back to him in a 
flood-tide of bitterness. The sad yet majestic face 
of his old mother, framed in the white frill of her 
cap, looked upon him in his helplessness. It was 
impossible for him to avert his face from her quiet 
yet rebuking look. Again he heard her speak the 
very words she had uttered on the day he left for 
the New World : “ Mein Sohn, eine Neue Welt 
kann Reichthum und Ehr bringen, aber sie kann 
niemals die Eiebe noch den Schmertz der Alten ver- 
bergen.” (My son, a New World may bring riches 
and honor, but she can never hide either the love 
or the sorrow of the Old.) Stiegel did not appre- 
ciate the force of his mother’s remarks that day ; 
but the full import of their meaning filled his soul 
now with a strange pain he had never felt before. 
He began to realize that, like the prodigal of old, 
he had made unjust demands upon his father that 
day when he asked him to give him the portion of 
his inheritance, in order that he might come to this 
far country from which it seemed impossible now 
ever to return to his father’s house to confess his 
sin. Though he had not spent that substance in 
the service of sin, his spirit took up the prodigal’s 
wail : “ Father, I have sinned before heaven, and 
in thy sight.” In the anguish of his soul he almost 


44 


BARON STIEGEE. 


cried aloud. He felt that although he would, in all 
probability, be unable to whisper his penitence into 
his earthly father’s ear, his Father in heaven could 
hear his confession and record it in the book of 
His eternal remembrance. 

This thought gave his surging soul relief. In 
the tumult of his feelings, whilst tears of sorrow 
rolled down his cheeks, he realized that, as the 
prodigal’s father had come out to meet him, so the 
forgiving love of his heavenly Father had come 
from His far-away throne of uncreated light, and 
was finding him there amid the silent shadows of 
the night. Even in his captivity, with death star- 
ing him in the face, he felt freer than ever in all 
his life before. All heaven was given him in that 
hour, because he entered the newer, richer life of 
the child of God. He realized that in that hour 
all heaven had rejoiced over him, because he had 
found his everlasting freedom. He forgot his 
physical condition. Even the thongs for the time 
being did not hurt him. How his freed spirit ex- 
ulted in its new freedom ! 

How long this ecstasy would have continued be- 
fore the suffering of his physical condition would 
have reasserted itself, we do not know. The full 
tide which surged through his soul had not yet 
begun to ebb before a form clad, as those who had 


FREEDOM. 


45 


bound him to the tree, stepped into the moonlight, 
as noiselessly as the rays of the moon itself. As 
the form put its fingers slowly to its lips, in token of 
silence, Baron Stiegel, to his great joy, recognized 
it to be the Indian guide whom they had hired the 
day before, and who had so unceremoniously left 
them at their noon-day meal. Scarcely had this 
recognition taken place before the Indian glided 
behind the Baron, and almost immediately he felt 
his thongs relax. The deliverer next raised the 
Baron from his painful sitting posture. A single 
flourish of his knife and the thongs which bound 
his feet lay upon the ground. Without a word the 
Indian led him behind the tree, and motioned him 
to remain there until he could release the other 
captives. Everyone of them was awake, either be- 
cause the painful condition of their positions pre- 
vented rest, or because they hoped against hope 
that a means of escape would be provided them. 
The fact that they were awake greatly facilitated 
the work of the friendly Indian. In a moment 
every prisoner was released. Each one was mo- 
tioned to stand behind the tree to which he had 
been bound. After they were all upon their feet 
the guide stepped noiselessly into the forest and 
motioned them to follow. He walked slowly at 
first until the cramped limbs of the prisoners had 


46 


BARON STIEGEE. 


time to relax. Each moment he quickened his 
pace. He spoke not a word. He allowed none of 
the white men to catch up with him. Each time 
a twig snapped or one of the men stumbled with 
leaden foot he threw up a warning hand. 

Finally he halted in the shadow of a big tree, 
which stood at the edge of a little open space. 
Against the trunk of the tree our friends beheld, to 
their amazement, all their guns and ammunition. 
It was the first time they had thought of their 
arms, so eager had they been to escape from the 
clutches of their savage captors. The guide, how- 
ever had made these his first care. So silently and 
so stealthily had he come to the camp and secured 
the arms of the party that not even the wakeful 
captives had seen or heard him. He had carried 
them to this distant spot to avoid all noise, and to 
give the party time to get them, should they be pur- 
sued. In the exultation of the moment the Baron 
took the hand of their liberator and passionately 
kissed it. 

Though they were not two hundred rods from their 
sleeping foe, the Baron counseled his liberator to 
rest a few moments. The friendly Indian replied to 
this dangerous proposition with a grunt and at once 
plunged ahead, beckoning them to follow. Stiegel 
was too wise to disobey. He recalled that he had 


freedom. 


47 


on the previous noon disobeyed the Redman’s 
counsel, and thus brought upon himself the danger 
and misery from which, he was compelled to ad- 
mit, they had not yet fully freed themselves. 

The guide did not retrace his steps toward Lan- 
caster. He knew that, if they would be pursued at 
all by the hostile band of plunderers, they would 
hope to take them on their way to the town they 
had left twenty-four hours before. He knew that 
these Indians were acquainted with the French sol- 
diers, because they had stacked the arms of their 
captives in true military style. He hoped that in- 
asmuch as they were a band of marauders, either 
from Ohio or New York, and very little acquainted 
with the country through which they were travel- 
ing, they would consider it impracticable to pursue 
their escaped captives. Being a member of the 
Conestoga tribe, he was perfectly familiar with the 
country, and, therefore, knew that they could not 
be far from the Scotch-Irish settlement at Derry. 
Thither, therefore, they bent their steps with all 
haste. The Indian kept in advance, gliding ser- 
pent-like through the bushes. The sky above the 
trees to their right was already becoming mellowed 
with the dawn when they struck a well-beaten 
trail. Here the guide put his ears to the ground 
and listened long and anxiously. When he arose 


48 


BARON STIEGEE. 


there was an anxious look upon his face, and he at 
once began to retrace his steps over the way they 
had just come. There having been no path, the 
direction alone could be their guide. After they 
had gone for half a mile or so, he told them they 
would climb into trees and rest awhile. He said 
he feared they were pursued. L,ess than an hour 
would determine whether he was correct. It did 
not take our friends long to execute the wish of 
their guide. They were soon from ten to twenty 
feet from the ground. Their rifles were loaded and 
well primed, and the great stout limbs gave them a 
comfortable resting-place. If their foe should 
find them, they felt sure they would be able to give 
him a warm reception. 

Here, kind reader, we must leave them for the 
present. They are free, it is true, but they are not yet 
safe from their foe. Before we turn from the events 
of this chapter, to get acquainted with other peo- 
ple and incidents, let us explain how the friendly 
Indian appeared at the moment he was most needed. 
When he left his charge, because Stiegel would 
not obey his request to start upon their journey at 
once, he did not by any means desert the party. 
He knew that the two old Indians were no friends, 
and that they had not seen the last of them. He 
was not near enough to witness their capture, be- 


FREEDOM. 


49 


cause he well knew the danger of his situation, but 
he did see the prisoners as they filed on their march 
toward the setting sun. He had no time to sum- 
mon help from either his own tribe or from the 
whites, both of whom were miles away. He fol- 
lowed the captors all the afternoon, and when at 
last they had all fallen asleep except the sentinel, 
and he had taken the last drop of spirits, our guide 
was inexpressibly happy. One fact in his favor 
was that the Indians had no dogs with them, else 
the release of the prisoners would not have been 
so easy, if it would have been at all possible. 

4 


CHAPTER VI. 


ELIZABETH. 

Early in the first half of the eighteenth cen- 
tury iron ore was discovered in Eastern Pennsyl- 
vania, and brave men in quest of fortune, and for 
the purpose of developing the resources of the land 
of their adoption, began to mine and smelt iron ore. 
The first of these furnaces was built in Lancaster 
County. It was owned by a man by the name of 
Johann Huber. This Johann Huber was a pious, 
God-fearing man, and because of his integrity soon 
made friends with the Redmen around him. Hav- 
ing their friendship, his work prospered. He soon 
hired stone-masons who erected for him a brown 
sand-stone house, which at the time was the finest 
and the largest stone mansion for many miles 
around. Although the hands that placed the 
stones into position have already moldered with 
the dust for more than a century, their work has 
stood the test of time, and proves to men of their 
craft that the old masons understood their business. 

It is in this house, and the little family which 

(50) 


ELIZABETH. 


51 


first, and for years, occupied it, that we are inter- 
ested at present. The furnace to which we have 
already alluded stood within a stone’s throw of this 
stone mansion. Not far from the furnace were the 
forges in which in those early days were made the 
nails and the great, long wrought-iron hinges 
which held them in place. These hinges have now 
become almost priceless relics. It is seldom that 
one of them is seen even upon the doors of stables. 

This Herr Huber employed quite a number of 
men in the furnace, forges, and smithies which 
composed his extensive works. It was, therefore, 
quite natural that men in search of employment 
should from time to time come to the works. 
Originally Mr. Huber depended upon his friends in 
Philadelphia to send him the men necessary to 
operate his extensive works, but as the country 
around him developed it was not unusual for men to 
call upon him at the works. 

Soon after the time the events related in the 
last chapter had occurred in the forest, not fifty 
miles away from Herr Huber’s stone mansion, one 
evening, just as the sun sank behind the giants of 
the forest which surrounded the mansion of Herr 
Huber, six men in the garb of workmen presented 
themselves at the gate in front of Huber’s home. 
These men, as their clothing and wearied appear- 


52 


BARON STIEGEE. 


ance indicated, had evidently journeyed far on foot. 
They inquired in good German for the proprietor 
from a man who was making his toilet prepara- 
tory to the evening meal. Mr. Huber appeared 
while the men were making their inquiries, and 
was accordingly pointed out by the workman whom 
they had interrogated. The men explained that 
they were iron-workers who had recently come 
from the Old World, and had been directed by a 
friend of Huber’s in Philadelphia to apply to him 
for employment. They said they had walked all 
the way from the city, and were very anxious to 
gain employment. 

Just then the great horn, the signal for supper, 
was sounded, and Herr Huber, who was hospitable 
and a friend to the unemployed countrymen who 
came to him in large numbers, invited the stran- 
gers to come into the kitchen. After they had 
cleansed their travel-stained hands and faces they 
were invited to the table, at the head of which Herr 
Huber himself presided. 

During the repast a comely maiden of about 
fifteen summers waited on the table. This was 
the only daughter of Mr. Huber, in fact the pride 
of his life and the idol of his heart. She was just 
budding into womanhood, and was a veritable child 
of the forest. Her hair, which hung in long dark 


ELIZABETH. 


53 


braids down her back, was as black as the crows 
which cawed around her forest home. Her cheeks 
were like the mountain pinks, and her lips like 
cherries. Her dark eyes sparkled and shone 
with the animation which the pure soul that pos- 
sessed them imparted. The girl was tall for her 
age, yet plump and well built, strong and lithe as 
the does that came to quench their thirst at the 
streams that brought water to her father’s works. 

She had never been to the schools, which are to 
the beauty which nature imparts what the diamond 
is to the gold that clasps it. Yet the girl was not 
untutored. A young German woman, who had lost 
her husband and her fortune in the wars which were 
terminated by the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, had come 
at the invitation of Huber’s wife, to the forest home 
of the Hubers. She said no place in all the world 
was so well suited to give rest to her wearied and 
bruised heart as the home of these friends. She 
had known them in her girlhood in the Old World, 
and, when they offered her a home and an asylum 
in America, she came, penniless it is true, but rich 
in affection and those charms that are reflected by 
the soul that dwells beneath the shadow of the 
Almighty. She could not be useless, although 
nature and inexperience had left her unfitted for 
manual toil. From the very first it seemed to Mrs. 


54 


BARON STIEGEL. 


Huber as if Providence bad sent her to them, to 
supply wants which money cannot buy. Immedi- 
ately upon her arrival at the Huber home she saw 
the sterling worth of Elizabeth, which was the 
name of the only daughter of the Hubers, and at 
once lavished all the affection of her heart, which 
had now been mellowed by her loss, upon this girl of 
the forest. She taught Elizabeth German, French, 
and English. She had learned to write, read, and 
speak the last on a journey through England, ere 
the bloom had faded from her cheek and her 
heart had been crushed by adversity. The piano 
and the flute were instruments she loved, and it 
was not many months before she was happy to 
acknowledge that her pupil, the bright and spark- 
ling Elizabeth, excelled her teacher. 

We have thus introduced our readers to Eliza- 
beth Huber, and to the woman who contributed so 
much toward the fitting of the girl for the position 
she was destined to occupy for a little while in the 
hearts and the homes of those who loved her. We 
have seen that she waited upon the guests on the 
evening the strangers sat at meat with her father. 
Her personal appearance, her gentle and courteous 
manner attracted the attention of all the strangers, 
as it naturally would ; but they, with the reserve 
which even the villain can display when the occa- 


ELIZABETH. 


55 


sion demands it, snatched a furtive glance only now 
and then at the beautiful form as it passed to and 
fro. When they had been assigned quarters for 
the night, they gave free expression to their sur- 
prise at finding so lovely a girl in what they had 
been persuaded to believe was the very borderland 
of heathen savages. The men, we have no need to 
say, had no hope of winning the affections of the 
girl, but so lovely an apparition would be worthy of 
their thoughts and their conversation. 

The next morning the bright-eyed, raven-haired 
Elizabeth was again the waitress upon the strange 
guests. One of them, more bold and more impu- 
dent than his fellows, ceased to study the face of the 
girl in the furtive manner he had done the evening 
before. He was emboldened to give her a broad 
stare, which she noticed, and in consequence spilled 
some hot coffee upon the bald pate of the oldest of 
the six upon whom she was waiting at the time, 
much to her own chargin and to his discomfort. 

After the morning meal, when her father com- 
mented in private upon her awkwardness, the art- 
less Elizabeth plainly told him the reason of it. 
With those eyes, so serpent-like, fixed upon her 
whenever they thought her attention was elsewhere, 
she could not help being awkward. She saw, by 
intuition, in the face of this man what years of ex- 


5 ^ 


BARON STIEGEE. 


perience with men had not taught her father. She 
was consequently displeased when her father told 
her that he had employed the men. It is true they 
would not come to the mansion for their meals, and 
she would have no need to speak to them if 
she did not wish, but notwithstanding she had a 
strange foreboding that the presence of these men 
meant sorrow for her. 


CHAPTER VII. 


A NEW FIRM. 

IT was six weeks from the time that Baron Stiegel 
left Philadelphia until he and his party returned to 
that city. The Baron, to the day of his death, al- 
ways maintained that they would never have re- 
turned had it not been that he entered into cove- 
nant relations with his Maker that awful night he 
and his companions awaited death at the hands of 
their savage captors. That night, he felt convinced, 
his soul rose above its physical suffering and peril- 
ous bodily condition to an experience which was as 
blessed as it was new to him. 

God often permits misfortune to come upon us in 
order that He may reveal us to ourselves, and after- 
ward He reveals Himself to us. This must forever 
be the order, us to ourselves, and then Himself to 
us. Eternity alone will be sufficient to show 
us the priceless worth of the misfortunes which 
become the channels for such revelations. 

We left the Baron and his companions concealed 
among the branches of the trees, whilst the Indian 

(57) 


58 


BARON STIEGEL. 


guide went forth to reconnoitre. Our friends had 
not the most enviable feelings either as to comfort 
or assurance that all danger of recapture was over. 
They had been awaiting in silence for more 
than half an hour, not knowing what the next mo- 
ment might reveal, when at last they heard the 
snapping of branches not far from the place 
of their concealment. At first but one thought 
filled their minds, although they did not venture to 
speak to each other. It was the thought that their 
guide was returning to them. The careless snap- 
ping of branches and rustle among the dead leaves 
was but an evidence that caution was no longer 
necessary. The Baron was already in the act of 
swinging himself from the branch in the hickory 
to which he had climbed, when to his amazement 
he saw, instead of the Indian guide, a huge black 
bear, passing not twenty feet from the place where 
he was sitting. For some reason the bear paid no 
attention to the men among the branches of the 
trees. 

Soon after the bear had disappeared the Indian 
returned as noiselessly as he had gone. He mo- 
tioned them to dismount from their perches. We 
need not say that they complied with alacrity. He 
explained to them that he had discovered no traces 
of the savages. He had not had time to get upon 


A NEW FIRM. 


59 


their trail, but he felt sure that they were not pur- 
suing them along the path by which they had 
escaped. 

The Indian guide was thoroughly familiar with 
the route they were now taking. He had acted as 
guide very often, and knew the road between He- 
bron, Derry, and Paxtang quite as well as he knew 
the surrounding forests. He knew that they were 
not far from Paxtang, and he accordingly directed 
his steps thither. 

The sturdy Scotch-Irish yeomen were hospitable 
almost to a fault, and when their German brethren 
arrived in the early morning they received them 
with every expression of delight. They listened 
to their story of capture and escape, and invited 
them to their homes, where they furnished them 
with a good substantial breakfast. Whilst the 
Germans were eating their morning meal, with ap- 
petites sharpened by a fast of nearly twenty-four 
hours, their entertainers were already arming them- 
selves for both defense and pursuit. These Indians, 
they reasoned, might be only a squad of a larger 
party, who might plunder and desolate many 
homes. 

The searching party that went out from the set- 
tlement did not return until late in the evening. 
They brought with them no trace of the savages ; 


6o 


BARON STIEGEE. 


but from an eminence, which commands a view of 
the rend in the mountains, at what is now Rock- 
ville, on the Susquehanna, they saw the smoke 
ascending from a camp-fire, evidently that of Red- 
men who felt themselves at ease from all pursuit. 
Because they were convinced that this marauding 
party was evidently about to cross the stream, and 
because they knew that they could not reach their 
camp before dark, they abandoned the pursuit. 

A few days of rest, and our friends were ready to 
begin their return. They purchased a few horses 
in the settlement, for which the Baron paid part in 
cash, and for the remainder of which he gave his 
simple promise. The amount was paid in full 
when early in the spring the farmers came to the 
city of Philadelphia to exchange their produce for 
such wares as they needed. 

Soon after the Baron’s visit to Paxtang, the 
autumn faded into winter, long and drear, during 
which the settlements were in the wilderness like 
planets in space, only more solitary and isolated, 
because they were never seen. They had little fear 
of attack from the Indians during the winter. The 
Conestogas were at peace with the settlers, and ma- 
rauding parties from the North and West did not 
venture forth upon their visitations of plunder and 
murder during the winter. 


A NEW FIRM. 


6l 


The Baron spent the winter in the city, making 
plans for the coming summer. He did not enter 
society, but he did make warm friends. Having 
nothing else to do, he spent his time in determin- 
ing where he would make his investments. When 
at last the ice-king was compelled to loosen his 
grasp from roads and rivers, he was ready to go 
forth with all the buoyancy of hope which his 
wealth and his youth inspired. It is true, he now 
had a wholesome lesson in the treachery and 
cruelty of the American savage, and he went forth 
with a better retinue and more fully armed. He 
adopted as a means of safety a method of travel 
peculiar to himself. He always kept a pack of 
hounds which were trained to keep ahead of him- 
self and retinue. They certainly heralded his 
coming ; but whether they contributed much to his 
safety the narrator of this history is unable to say. 

The previous autumn the Baron had learned of 
a certain Herr Huber, who, not far from Lancas- 
ter, owned a large establishment for the smelting 
of iron ore and for the manufacture of nails, 
hinges, and, in fact, everything of iron which the 
farmer and backwoodsman needed. He had re- 
solved to pay his countryman a visit, learn all he 
could concerning his craft, and, perhaps, buy him 
out, or, if that were not possible, buy an interest in 


62 


BARON STlEGKly. 


his investment. In the early part of June, there- 
fore, when wild flowers perfumed the air and the 
windows and doors of the great stone house of 
which we have already spoken stood wide open to 
welcome the genial sunshine and the perfumed 
zephyrs, there was about to cross the threshold of 
the mansion a stranger whose own life, for a while 
at least, was to be very intimately associated with 
the house and all that pertained thereto. Whether 
this association brought either him or the original 
owners of the home much peace and joy will be 
the province of this volume to unfold. 

Elizabeth and her preceptress were returning 
from one of their accustomed walks along the big 
dam which supplied the water power for her 
father’s iron works, when they heard the clatter of 
horses’ hoofs beyond the bend in the road. In a 
moment afterward two horsemen approached the 
ladies and politely saluted as they passed. Whilst 
the women were looking after them and wonder- 
ing who they could be, ten others came round the 
bend in the road. Of the two foremost one was 
richly clad, and rode a beautiful sorrel. All of the 
men carried arms, but it was evident that they were 
not from a neighboring settlement, organizing for 
the French and Indian War which had now begun 
in dead earnest. 


A NEW FIRM. 


63 


The ladies found, on their return home, that the 
strangers had come for the express purpose of see- 
ing Herr Huber. The well-dressed young man, 
whom Elizabeth had seen at the head of the caval- 
cade, was even then in the private office with her 
father, booking through the open window she 
saw the two men sitting at her father’s desk, upon 
which lay a number of letters which he was en- 
gaged in reading. 

About one hour after she returned from her 
walk Elizabeth’s father called her. When she 
came to the door of the office she found the stran- 
ger still there. Her father took her hand and laid 
it gently into the extended hand of the stranger, 
who had arisen and politely inclined his head as he 
received it. Her father at the same time said : 
“ Baron Stiegel, this is my only daughter, Eliza- 
beth. She is to us a dear girl. She is the idol of 
our hearts and the light of our home.” 

The Baron said, still holding the brown little 
hand of the girl in his shapely, aristocratic palm : 
“ Surely this, your nest among the oaks of this 
mighty forest, holds a bird of which the palace of 
a king might well be proud. You cannot hope to 
long retain her in this, your forest home.” As he 
so said he blushed, perhaps because he realized 
that his remark had caused the brown cheek of the 


6 4 


BARON STIEGEE. 


artless Elizabeth to glow. Her father, without 
apparently paying any attention to the Baron’s re- 
marks, continued : u Elizabeth, this is Baron 
Stiegel, from Mannheim, Germany. He has come 
to our America to seek a suitable place to make his 
investments. He has been consulting with me for 
the last half-hour with regard to a place in which 
he might invest his money safely and well. Be- 
cause the day is already far spent, I have invited 
him to tarry with his retinue until the morning. 
He and his men will therefore be our guests.” 

After bidding him a hearty welcome, Elizabeth 
left the room. The Baron watched her straight, 
lithe form as it disappeared through the threshold. 
Turning to her father, he said : “I dare say your 
daughter never pines for the society which she can- 
not have in the settlement here, and for which na- 
ture and, if I mistake not greatly, education have 
so well fitted her. Where can the goddess of 
beauty and wisdom have found so fair a sprite in 
her whole vast domain to send to your forest 
home ? ” 

We add this remark simply to show our readers 
that the daughter of Herr Huber had made an im- 
pression upon the Baron. We need not remind our 
readers that this impression was different from that 
which this same artless girl had made upon Fritz, 


A NEW FIRM. 65 

whom we introduced to this home in our former 
chapter. She had kindled in the heart of the 
Baron a feeling which is akin to that which comes 
to the soul of one who studies and admires the 
handiwork of some great painter or sculptor. In 
the heart of the other man she had kindled feel- 
ings such as stir the savage beast when it furtively 
watches its prey. At their first meeting of the 
girl neither of them loved her, although it has been 
said that he can never love who does not love at 
first sight. 

The different impression which the appearance 
of the girl made upon the two men was different 
because the men were different — different in educa- 
tion, different in thought, different in habits of life, 
and last, but not least, different by heredity. For 
their heredity neither of them was responsible, al- 
though both of them were responsible for what they 
did to counteract the awful and far-reaching power 
of heredity. That evening Elizabeth and her pre- 
ceptress entertained the Baron with their sprightly 
conversation and their sweet music. The old piano, 
which had been brought from Germany, vied with 
voice and flute as it spake its sweetest. There was 
a comeliness about the young widow which at- 
tracted the Baron, whilst her sadness won his 
deepest sympathy. 

5 


66 


BARON STIEGEL. 


But the next morning found the Baron and Herr 
Huber again closeted in the little office from which 
they did not emerge until noon. The indirect re- 
sult of that interview was that the Baron and his 
retinue spent ten days in the settlement, during all 
of which time he was the guest of the Hubers. The 
time was spent by the Baron in carefully studying 
Huber’s iron works, in learning as much as possi- 
ble of the resources of the neighborhood. He 
thought seriously of buying hundreds if not thou- 
sands of acres of land adjoining that of Herr 
Huber’s home. Those days were full of enjoy- 
ment and peace. Their memory was a treasure of 
the heart rather than of the intellect during many 
of the years of the Baron’s subsequent life. To 
dwell upon those experiences was to him a treasure 
from which he could not be dispossessed, and which 
he prized as highly as any possession with which 
he was compelled to part. Each evening of those 
ten days the same little company gathered in the 
little parlor of the stone mansion and chased the 
flying hours with conversation and song until far 
into the night. 

When at last the matters which concerned 
Stiegel’s business with Herr Huber were all at- 
tended to that could be finished in the Huber 
home, the entire company which had come with 


A NEW FIRM. 


6 7 


Stiegel, also set out on the return to Philadelphia. 
What is more, the company was augmented by 
Herr Huber himself mounted on one of the best of 
his horses. He and Stiegel rode at the head. This 
was because Huber knew the road better than any- 
one else, and because, being interested in business 
and conversation with regard to their future, they 
would not so easily separate themselves from the 
rest of their party. 

Thus far they had agreed that Stiegel should 
have one-half interest in the extensive iron works 
of Huber’s. Huber intended to spend the addi- 
tional capital thus acquired in improving the plant. 
Stiegel intended to buy much additional land. 
They would increase their working force, and also 
the acreage under tillage. They determined to 
hire only sober and industrious people. Their col- 
ony was to be a model for all others around them. 
To Huber it seemed that the Baron’s resources were 
practically inexhaustible. With such a partner 
nothing would be impossible to the firm of Stiegel 
& Huber. It was in order that they might perfect 
their plans, and in order that Stiegel might pay 
Huber the amounts required to make him half- 
owner of the iron works, that the two gentlemen 
went to Philadelphia. 

Herr Huber had formed the habit of inviting 


68 


BARON STIEGEE. 


new-comers in his employment to his spacious man- 
sion for their board and lodging until they could 
find accommodation in the village. This afforded 
him an opportunity to study their character, and it 
taught them to look upon Huber as their friend. 
Fritz and his companions shared this privilege with 
all who had come before them. They were at the 
mansion more than a week before they found a suit- 
able place to lodge. 

So far as Baron Stiegel knew, there was not a 
single individual on the Huber estate whom he had 
ever seen before this visit. There was, however, 
one man there whom he had seen before. This 
man saw the Baron, and knew him the moment he 
saw him. This man was none other than Fritz. 
The old feeling of revenge which had animated all 
his plotting thus far again filled his soul. At least 
Fritz persuaded himself that it was a desire for re- 
venge, but the truth of the matter was, it was his 
wicked heart which caused him to imagine revenge 
as the excuse for his desire to do wrong. 

Fritz had come to the Huber mansion simply be- 
cause he had been foiled in his attempt to waylay 
the Baron on the first trip across the country, when 
he came so near losing his life at the hands of the 
Indians. Fritz and his companions had intended 
to rob, and, if necessary, to murder the Baron and 


A NEW FIRM. 


69 


his party on their way home. For this purpose 
they waited at Lancaster ; but, when the Baron did 
not come, Fritz concluded that he had returned by 
the way of the Lebanon Valley to Philadelphia. 
The reader knows that Providence had become the 
Baron’s deliverer by placing his life in worse jeop- 
ardy. We doubt not that on the other shore it will 
be made plain to us that Providence was “ all good 
and wise alike in what it gave and what denied.” 

When Fritz first saw Baron Stiegel in the home 
of the Hubers a feeling of disappointment and rage 
swept through his soul which caused his body to 
tremble with the fierceness of his emotion. He re- 
solved anew that the Baron should feel the bitter- 
ness of his hatred. All that day, which was the 
last of Stiegel’s stay at the mansion before he and 
Herr Huber went to Philadelphia, Fritz was dazed 
by the discovery of Stiegel’s presence, and only 
semi-conscious of what he was doing. He was 
brought to himself before the day closed in a man- 
ner which he never forgot, and which might have 
caused him to lose his life. Another of the work- 
men had directed the molten iron into the little 
channels in which it cools into “ pigs.” Fritz, be- 
cause he was filled with dark thoughts and very 
careless, slipped and fell. In his fall he threw out 
his arm to save his head and face from the molten 


70 


BARON STIEGEL. 


iron. His elbow struck the fiery pool, and was fear- 
fully burned. His clothing took fire, and had it 
not been for the prompt action of his fellow-work- 
men he would have lost his life. This accident 
Fritz also, strange as it may seem, laid to the charge 
of Stiegel. Fritz was immediately hurried to the 
Huber house, and his wound received proper at- 
tention. Twice every day for more than a week 
Fritz came to have his arm dressed. Once, toward 
the end of the week, he asked Elizabeth, to whom 
the work of caring for the arm had fallen, who the 
stranger was in whose company her father had gone 
away. This he asked, not because he did not know, 
but because he wished to fill the soul of the pure 
girl with the same venom that had poisoned him 
against the Baron. On being told that it was Baron 
Stiegel, from Mannheim, Germany, he said, “God 
grant that you and your father may never know 
that vile man as I know him.” Elizabeth blushed 
crimson. She scarcely knew why. Fritz went on 
to say, “He is a thief, a perjurer, and one of the 
vilest of men. I doubt whether your father will 
ever return if he commits himself to that man’s 
company.” 

Instantly Elizabeth contrasted the appearance of 
the man before her with that of Stiegel. With a 
woman’s intuition she formed her own wise conclu- 


A NEW FIRM. 


71 


sion. In a moment she replied, “Baron Stiegel 
acted like a gentleman in our home. He brought 
letters of introduction from the best people in Ger- 
many.” 

Fritz instantly replied, “ The devil himself has 
many friends.” 

Here the conversation ended. Fritz’s arm was 
dressed, and taking up his cap he was gone. 

That same day Fritz was told by the foreman 
that Stiegel and Huber had gone to Philadelphia 
together, and that in all probability Stiegel was by 
that time half-owner in the works. Fritz’s wrath 
knew no bounds when he heard this. He swore 
and stamped in impotent rage. The foreman was 
utterly amazed at this conduct, and asked the man 
whether he was “ besitzt von einem Teufel ” (pos- 
sessed of a devil). Fritz, still swearing, rushed 
from the building. 

The next day Fritz sent word to the foreman 
that his arm was too painful for him to continue at his 
work. He, however, loitered about the Huber home, 
much to the annoyance of the raven-haired Eliza- 
beth. His time was spent in plotting how he might 
best rob the house that had sheltered him and 
nursed his wound. Finally he concluded to rob the 
house, and, if possible, waylay Huber and Stiegel 
on their return from the city, and murder Stiegel. 


72 


BARON STlEGEE. 


Then he would join a company for the French and 
Indian War. He realized that he could not exe- 
cute this diabolical plan unaided, so he approached 
one of the men who had come with him to the 
works, and whom we saw at our first introduction 
to Fritz, in the upper room, in the city. But Fritz 
found that his old companion spurned his incentives 
to wickedness. Kind treatment, wholesome sur- 
roundings, and honest toil had done much for him. 
He approached others, but always with the same 
results. He learned that he no longer possessed the 
confidence or the friendship of his companions. 
Had his own heart been less debased, the knowl- 
edge that he had not one friend in the world would 
have made him sad. It could not be otherwise ; 
the wicked can have no friends. They may have 
associates, but let us not pollute the word friend 
by applying it to the associates of the wicked. 
Our friends make us do our best ; they ennoble our 
natures, and, like our shadows, can only follow us 
whilst we walk in the light of a pure life. They, 
like our shadows, must leave us the moment we 
cross into the dark path of evil. Fritz’s compan- 
ions now were for the first time his real friends, be- 
cause, by their refusal to carry out his plans which 
he was too cowardly to undertake without them, 
they saved him from great crimes. 


A NEW FIRM. 73 

Fritz realized also that from that time the Huber 
works would be no place for him. The very next 
day he drew his wages, and, with staff in hand and 
a rifle slung over his shoulder, he started for Tan- 
caster. “ It is impious in a good man to be sad.” 
It is in keeping with an evil nature to be always 
sad and disconsolate. So when Fritz took a fare- 
well look upon the Huber settlement a feeling of 
sadness and longing stole over him which he could 
crowd down only by reassuming his spirit of bravado 
and defiance. He shook his fist menacingly toward 
the Huber mansion, then turned upon his heel and 
was gone. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


AN ENGAGEMENT. 

Almost from the very first day of their meeting, 
Baron Stiegel and Herr Huber were friends. From 
that first evening’s interview in the office to the 
day of their separation the two men always felt 
sure of each other. Whenever any great question 
in business or in politics thrust itself upon them, 
the one could nearly always tell how the other 
would decide before they had mutually discussed 
the matter. Both seemed to have an intuitive 
knowledge of the other’s thoughts and feelings, so 
that each was better able to predict what the other 
would do than he himself knew. 

The friendship between the two was peculiar in 
another respect. It was formed between men of 
whom the one was past middle life, and the other 
much younger. Generally, when friendship exists 
between two thus separated in years and experience, 
the elder considers himself the advisor and, in every 
way, the superior of the younger ; and the younger 
feels a diffidence, if not a positive reluctance, in the 
revealing of his inmost being to his elder ; but it 

(74) 


AN ENGAGEMENT. 75 

was not so in this case. It seems as if each had 
waited for the other before he was able to give his 
best energies to his business, and his warmest affec- 
tions to those whom he loved or would learn to love. 
Each seemed to open wide the door to the other’s 
being, so that each could step put into the world 
both to know and be known, to see things in their 
true light and to be seen. 

Perhaps we are a little ahead of our story. We 
must not forget to state that Herr Huber found all 
the representations which Stiegel had made abso- 
lutely correct. The Baron paid Huber the purchase 
money for a half-interest in the Huber works. Had 
not Herr Huber found Baron Stiegel an honest 
man, it is needless to say, the first part of this chap- 
ter would never have been written. We can never 
become the trusting friends of those who have once 
deceived or tried to deceive us. In due time the 
Baron and Herr Huber returned to the stone man- 
sion in the midst of the great forests, which have 
long since given way to well-cultivated fields. The 
Baron brought all his possessions to his new home. 
From this time the interests of the two men were 
to be mutual. It is true, the Baron had yet many 
things to learn about the customs of the New 
World, and especially about the business he had 
now chosen for his life-work. 


7 6 


BARON STIEGEL 


During the trip to Philadelphia, the Baron 
thought often of the comely Elizabeth. The 
father, too, thought often of her and the other of 
his dearest on earth, and was ineffably happy when 
he once more saw the great stone house nestled 
among the forest trees, and the smoke from the 
chimney curling in graceful spirals toward heaven. 
The club, the lodge, and all the other modern forces 
which rob the home of its inmates and the inmates 
of the hallowed influences of home-life, had not been 
born in those early days. Fireside happiness is 
most precious. It is the food for the soul upon 
which it feeds years afterward, when it is out on the 
world’s great barren heath. Our feverish modern 
life strips us of too much of our home-life and thus 
lays open our moral and spiritual natures to the 
shafts of the great enemy of our souls. 

The two men rode up to the gate together. They 
expected to see mother and daughter appear simul- 
taneously at the door ; but the mother and the gov- 
erness alone made their appearance. 

The first question the father asked was, u Wo ist 
mein Eiebchen (where is my sweetheart) ? ” It was 
the same question which the heart and eyes of 
Stiegel were asking, and for the answer to which he 
was now eagerly listening. The mother said : “ We 
have had some trying experiences with our daugh- 


AN ENGAGEMENT. 


77 


ter since you left us. She has not been quite her- 
self ever since one afternoon when she bound up 
the arm of one of the workmen who fell into the 
fire and severely burned himself. The man has 
quit his work and gone away. It could not have 
been the sight of his arm that causes her to be 
nervous by day and restless at night. We left her 
a few moments ago sleeping sweetly, and we trust 
that now, since you have both returned, she will 
soon be herself again.” The mother spoke more 
wisely than she knew. The words of Fritz had 
entered the soul of Elizabeth like a poisoned arrow, 
but the presence alone of Stiegel not only soothed 
the wound, but soon healed it. 

We have seen how rapidly the friendship between 
Herr Huber and the Baron grew, but we have as 
yet not told how the comely Elizabeth and Stiegel 
grew to be lovers. Our readers may imagine that it 
was the easiest thing in the world for the two to love 
one another. They were daily associated with each 
other. If the Baron had seen faces in the Father- 
land or in Philadelphia which charmed him, he had 
never learned to love, and, besides, he saw those 
faces no more. Now, that he lived in the almost 
constant presence of this sprightly child of the 
forest, he forgot all others. It is true, there were 
other maidens in the settlement who, although 


78 


BARON STIEGEL. 


socially inferior to Elizabeth, were her equal in 
those charms which beauty bestows on rich and 
poor alike. In addition to those in the settlement, 
there were many others in Eancaster, which was 
only a pleasant morning’s drive from the smoking 
furnaces and pounding forges of Stiegel & Huber. 
Anyone of those would have felt flattered with the 
attentions of the German Baron. But the truth of 
the matter is, “ There is a divinity which shapes 
our ends.” 

Aside from the providence which guides every 
trusting soul, it must be remembered that beauty 
soon grows familiar to those who look upon it 
constantly, and, when it has no soul, it is like an ice- 
palace, which chills as well as charms. It was 
because the hand of Providence had led Stiegel to 
the Huber settlement for the express purpose of 
linking with his the destiny of the sweet Elizabeth 
that the two soon learned to know that each was to 
the other what no other human being in all the 
world could be. Sometimes the knowledge that 
we are in love is a surprise to us. Sometimes 
the circumstances are such that we almost regret 
that it is so. Such was not the case either with 
the Baron or with Elizabeth. Love’s tonic stimu- 
lated their entire being. Mark you, we say, being ; 
for when once the soul loves, it and the object of 


AN ENGAGEMENT. 79 

its affections become one — one in purpose, one in 
hope. 

It is characteristic of the German to be outspoken, 
frank, in the declarations of his heart’s desires or 
loathings. In love he is eager to declare his pas- 
sion and to gain the object of his affections. For 
some reason Baron Stiegel, though a German in all 
that the word implies, nursed his love tenderly and 
by himself, declaring his affections neither to the 
girl nor to her father, at least not in words ; but his 
love spoke for itself in every act and look, when he 
was in the presence of Elizabeth. It was not long 
before her mother and the preceptress wished that 
the Baron would publicly declare his affection for 
the girl. 

Bovee has well said : “We love only partially till 
we know thoroughly. Grant that a closer ac- 
quaintance reveals weakness ; it will also disclose 
strength.” Perhaps this was the Baron’s sentiment. 
Perhaps he felt that a true man, like a true woman, 
can love in all the abandonment of self, and with his 
whole being, only once in this life, and so waited to 
be sure that this love had come to him. He wished 
to test his affection, to allow it to ripen into all its 
sweetness and tenderness before he would publicly 
declare it. The preceptress declared it as her opin- 
ion that the Baron’s hand still belonged to another 


8o 


BARON STIEGEE. 


in the far-away Mannheim, whilst it was plain to her 
that his heart belonged to Elizabeth. She realized 
that if she were correct in her surmises, the lady 
in the far-away land deserved her pity, for it was 
plain that the object of her affections was to her 
forever lost. So tenderly did she herself love her 
pupil, so earnestly did she desire that the husband 
of Elizabeth might never have been entangled in 
any previous engagement, that she often prayed 
that her suspicions might be unfounded. To Eliz- 
beth she said nothing of her fears. She did not 
even hint that she thought that the Baron was slow 
to declare his love. 

To Elizabeth the Baron was an elder brother, 
as well as lover. She had been u All the daughters 
of her father’s house, and all the brothers, too ; ” 
and so the Baron became to her a brother, and, at 
the same time, a lover. She confided all in him. 
He assisted her in her plans to bring light and 
cheer to many a homesick heart in the little settle- 
ment, by giving what money could not buy, tender 
solicitude for both the mother and child, in time of 
sickness or sorrow. In those days of their early 
love they began that life together which continued 
to rest, like a benediction, upon the homes of the 
settlement long after the blossoms that had exhaled 
the sweetness were crushed. 


AN ENGAGEMENT. 


8l 


The second autumn of Stiegel’s residence in the 
Huber mansion had come. It was October. The 
frosts of half a score of bitter nights had laid their 
icy fingers upon the flowers in Elizabeth’s garden, 
and the leaves in the forest had yielded their sea of 
green to the gorgeous hues which heralded the 
coming of the wailing winds which strip the trees 
of their loveliness. Herr Huber sat in his office at 
early evening. Before him lay open a large family 
Bible, which he had brought with him from the 
Fatherland. Whilst he was pensively gazing into 
a corner of the room, a light rap, which he knew 
to be the Baron’s, startled him from his re very. 
When the Baron entered, Huber said : “ Stiegel, I 
have been reading the Ninety-first Psalm, and I 
could not help thinking that I, myself, and my dear 
ones, are a striking illustration of the truthfulness 
of God’s Word. It is nearly ten years now since I 
came to this forest home. In all these years we 
have been threatened by many dangers, but the 
Ford has always been our refuge and our fortress. 
He has cared for our health, and He has prospered 
us. We are deprived of many of the comforts and 
luxuries of the Old World, but we have much for 
which to be thankful. Above all, the only child 
our Father has given us He has permitted to grow 
up until she has become to us as a flower born to 
6 


82 


BARON STIEGEL. 


bloom in the forest, to gladden some moss-embow- 
ered nook. Baron, the Father has shown me the 
wealth of love without ensnaring me in the love of 
wealth.” 

Whilst Huber was delivering his speech with 
which his musings had filled his soul, Baron Stiegel 
sat before him with his eyes quietly fixed upon 
him, whilst his lips uttered not a word. He nodded 
his head frequently, thus showing his interest in 
what was said. When he finished, the Baron said : 
“ Ever since I first met you and yours, I felt assured 
that yours is a goodly heritage. I have also learned 
since I came to America, and especially during my 
sojourn in your home, how Christianity can give 
peace in every trial, and how it enriches love even 
as the diamond enriches the gold in which it is set. 
With love and Christ our humblest surroundings 
are as stately palaces, and our darkest clouds have 
their silver linings. Herr Huber, I learned to re- 
spect and esteem you and your wife at our first 
meeting. Your daughter I loved from the moment 
I first held her shapely hand in my own. I can 
give no reason for this my love except that it is 
your daughter I love. I know not what inexplic- 
able power has made her happiness my life. Can 
you, who admitted me, a stranger, to your home, 
allow me to become your son ? ” 


AN ENGAGEMENT. 


83 


Huber fixed bis eyes upon Stiegel, wbo had 
risen to his feet and was grasping the hand of the 
father whose daughter he loved, whilst a flush suf- 
fused his countenance and his voice trembled with 
the agitation he felt. He did not make Stiegel 
wait for his reply. He said : “I have known for 
some time already that you and my daughter are 
in love. If I had a dozen daughters I would en- 
deavor to keep them from forming alliances, 
whether of friendship or of love, which I had cause 
to fear would not increase their happiness. You 
are welcome to both my daughter’s hand and heart, 
because I know you have won them honorably.” 

Stiegel now pressed the hand of Huber, which 
he still grasped, passionately to his lips. With- 
out saying a word in reply, he left the room. He 
went directly to the parlor and there found Eliza- 
beth alone. We will not speak of how the Baron 
made known his errand in the parlor, nor how he 
told her of his interview with her father. If there 
be privacy on earth upon which no reporter should 
attempt to obtrude himself it is where love meets 
love. If there be a chamber in the human heart 
which should be closed to all save one alone, and 
that one, love’s counterpart, it is the sacred golden 
chamber where love dwells. We, kind reader, will 
not, therefore, obtrude ourselves upon Elizabeth 


84 


BARON STIEGEL. 


and her lover, but we cannot help exclaiming, as 
we imagine the joy of these two souls in that su- 
preme moment : 

“ Mysterious love, uncertain treasure, 

Hast thou more of pain or pleasure ? ” 

Perhaps could they have seen the future upon 
whose threshold they now stood arm in arm, that 
calm October evening, they might both have quailed 
to enter and have shuddered as the frail leaf in the 
frosty autumn air. Perhaps they would have re- 
joiced as they took their first step into the new life, 
now that they felt sure of each other ; for it will 
ever be true, that “ the trials love helps to bear are 
the lightest, the joys we share are the sweetest.” 


CHAPTER IX. 


INDIANS. 

Early the next morning the postman’s horn 
echoed through the village above the roar of the 
furnace blast and the clanking of anvils and ham- 
mers. In those early days, the coming of the mail 
was always a great event, because it brought news 
from the outside world, although that news was 
many days old. 

Elizabeth did not get many letters. Having 
come to Philadelphia when she was a mere child, 
she had few friends in the New World, and still 
less in the Old. Now and then she received a let- 
ter from Lancaster, in which town she frequently 
visited ; but her visitors from that town were quite 
as frequent as her letters. Since the Baron lived 
with the Hubers, the postman never passed their 
door. There were always business letters, and fre- 
quently a letter from the far-away Mannheim. It 
was no surprise, therefore, when the postman, on 
this particular morning, stopped at the office of 
Huber & Stiegel ; but Elizabeth was almost startled 
when a letter, bearing her address, was handed her. 

(85) 


86 


BARON STIEGEE. 


It was in an unfamiliar hand and bore the post- 
mark, Lancaster. The following is a translation : 

Miss Huber: 

I wish to warn you and yours against the man 
Stiegel, who has lately become a partner in your 
father’s business. He claims to be a baron, but he 
is a serpent, for he is a deceiver. He has ruined 
many lives. He has compelled me to flee to this 
foreign land ; and here he persecutes me. Again I 
warn you. A Friend. 

For a moment after she had read the letter, Eliza- 
beth felt a keen pain at her heart, then confidence 
in her betrothed reasserted herself. The feeling of 
pain gave place to one of resentment toward the 
unknown writer of the missive, whose penmanship 
and language both indicated that he was unrefined, 
vulgar, and malicious. She folded the letter and 
placed it on her stand in her own room. 

Her greeting to the Baron at noon was just as 
cordial as ever. She did not intimate by word or 
act that she had unwelcome news. That same 
evening, however, she handed him the letter. He 
read it carefully, then looked her a moment fully 
in the face, said nothing, then re-read. When he 
had read it the second time, he said : “I know of 
but one man in the world who would write such a 
letter concerning me.” 

The Baron spent more than an hour that even- 


INDIANS. 


87 


in g in relating an experience he had had with a 
man in the Old World. I need not tell our read- 
ers that that man was Fritz. What his experience 
was with that man cannot now be made known to 
the reader. Of one thing let us be assured, that 
the confidence of Elizabeth was not in the least 
shaken in the Baron’s integrity and manliness. 
“Eove belie veth all things, hopeth all things.” 
Her Huber was never told the contents of that let- 
ter. Elizabeth did not wish to burden her father 
with the knowledge that her lover had at least one 
enemy in the world. She told Stiegel what he had 
not known before, namely, that when he first came 
to her home this same Fritz was in her father’s em- 
ploy, and knew well when the Baron arrived and 
how long he remained before he and her father 
went to the city together. This surprised Stiegel. 
It did more, it brought a troubled look to his face, 
which Elizabeth did not fail to notice. 

That night Elizabeth lay in her bed, sleeplessly 
listening to the wind as it moaned through the 
leafless forest and around shop and furnace. It 
sounded to her like the voice of a weird prophet 
moaning into her ear the fate that awaited her 
lover. Much as she tried to attribute her forebod- 
ings to her wakefulness, and not because there was 
a real danger, she could not. 


88 


BARON STlEGER. 


The next morning the Baron noticed that her 
face was tear-stained and her cheeks flushed and 
feverish. When he inquired the cause of her 
trouble, she freely confessed that the letter had 
caused her a sleepless night. Although she knew 
that “ He that dwelleth in the secret place of the 
most High shall abide under the shadow of the 
Almighty,” she had not succeeded in getting the 
relief she had sought on bended knee. We cannot 
blame her, for often Christians of a more mature 
growth worry and fret over imagined troubles, for- 
getting that the peace of God is for all His children. 

At first the Baron tried to laugh her out of her 
troubled frame of mind ; but when he found that 
he did not succeed, he determined to see what a 
drive in the pure, fresh, autumn air would do for 
her. They took their drive in a gig, the most styl- 
ish and comfortable vehicle that even aristocracy 
possessed in those days, if we except the heavy 
lumbering coach. With the fresh air kissing her 
fevered cheeks and with the wind playing hide and 
seek in her hair, which at the beginning of their 
ride hung in graceful little curls about her face and 
neck, and, above all, with her lover seated by her 
side, so manly looking and so strong, the vision of 
the night faded into forgetfulness. 

They had driven far beyond the village and were 


INDIANS. 


89 


breathing in long, deep draughts of the ozone-laden 
air, which the monarchs of the forest distilled, and 
every fibre of their being was throbbing with life, 
when there suddenly appeared in the road in front 
of them an Indian. He seemed greatly excited, 
and in a deep, hoarse voice he called to the Baron, 
whom he well knew, to turn toward the village, at 
the same time, pointing to the forest, he cried, 
“ Heap Indians,” then, bounding past the Baron’s 
team, he himself ran at headlong speed for the set- 
tlement. The Baron immediately turned and was 
rapidly driving after him, when the report of a gun 
behind them and the whizzing of a bullet between 
their heads told them plainly that some enemy was 
loitering in ambush, and but for the friendly In- 
dian’s warning would, then and there, have ful- 
filled all the horrors which Elizabeth had imagined 
during the sleepless hours of the preceding night. 

When the two arrived in the settlement, the 
friendly Indian, who had given them the warning, 
was already in the centre of a company of eager 
men and boys, who listened breathlessly to his narra- 
tive of how he had come upon a band of strange 
Indians in the forest, who were well armed with 
rifles, and who were evidently in the employment 
of the French, for many of them wore red coats, 
the property of murdered English soldiers. Their 


9 o 


BARON STIEGEE. 


mission to the interior of the Pennsyl van ia settlements 
evidently was to plunder, burn, and murder. Some 
of the more isolated homes had already been burned, 
and their occupants either murdered and scalped, or 
dragged into a captivity which was worse than 
death. Whether they would attack so large a 
settlement as the one around which they were now 
gathered remained to be seen. 

Herr Huber determined not to be surprised. All 
that day a sharp lookout was kept. The cattle of 
the settlement were secured, and everything was in 
readiness to give the savage foe, led on by men who 
claimed to be civilized, a warm reception. When 
evening came a company of men guarded the 
works from within so as to prevent their being 
fired. All of the women and children were gath- 
ered into the stone fort and into the first story of 
the Huber mansion, which with its heavy oaken 
shutters was almost as strong for defense as the fort 
itself. The houses were kept in darkness, but in 
each one of them there was an armed man, who 
was ordered to discharge his rifle at the first appear- 
ance of the swarthy foe. 

It is needless to say that Elizabeth slept no better 
this night and the following one than she had the 
night before. The Baron was commander-in-chief 
over the men at the furnace. He was determined 


INDIANS. 


91 


not again to fall into the hands of the savages. All 
the afternoon fugitives from the neighboring settle- 
ments had arrived in the village. All of these 
were given shelter in the fort. As the night slowly 
wore away, the settlers who had taken refuge in the 
fort from the neighboring farms, every now and 
then, saw the skies illumined by the red glare from 
their burning homes. Many lost all they possessed 
except their land, and what they had been able to 
carry with them to the Huber settlement. The 
knowledge that the results of years of toil were be- 
ing swallowed by the devastating fires brought tears 
to many eyes. Yet in all their sorrow they thanked 
God that they had escaped with their lives. We who 
enjoy the fruits of the toil and self-denials of those 
early yeoman can know little of what they endured. 
With them our nation was born, and in its young 
life it sucked their life-blood, and thus it gained 
those elements of manly strength and proud freedom 
which have always distinguished us as among the 
foremost nations of the earth. 

The friendly Indian who gave the warning was a 
member of the Conestoga tribe of Redmen. He 
was for many years the white man’s friend and guide, 
and when his neighbors and tribesmen moved on 
toward the setting sun, he was too old to journey 
with them. To this day the place is pointed out, 


92 


BARON STIEGEE. 


not far from the village of Manheim, where he and 
his squaw spent their declining years. 

After two days and nights of ceaseless vigil the 
friendly Indian once more appeared, saying that the 
savages had withdrawn to the deeper recesses of the 
forest, and were rapidly making their way toward 
the Susquehanna. In a very short time the refugees to 
the Huber settlement went to their homes. Huber & 
Stiegel were not the men to see these people spend 
the winter exposed to the elements. They sent 
their own employees to assist in rebuilding the 
homes that had been destroyed. Some of the 
settlers, who had lost everything except their land, 
remained in the Huber settlement, working in the 
furnace until the coming spring reassured them 
that all danger was now past. 

This was not the only time during the long and 
weary years of the French and Indian War that the 
bloody tide of savage warfare surged so near the 
eastern borders of the Keystone State ; for the sav- 
ages frequently extended their carnival of blood to 
the very gates of the larger towns. 

Edward Shippen, the Chief Burgess of Lancaster, 
after the defeat of Braddock, July 9th, 1755, when 
the French and Indians had strong hope of exter- 
minating the English and German settlers from the 
North American continent, or at least making them 


INDIANS. 


93 


subjects of the French crown, wrote to Governor 
Hamilton concerning the situation in his own town. 
The letter was written just a few days before the 
event we have already narrated in this chapter. At 
the very time of the approach of the savages so 
close to the Huber settlement, they had murdered 
many people in the Paxton settlement. 

Mr. Shippen in this letter to the Governor says : 
“ The savages which committed the murder in Pax- 
ton are now believed to be very numerous. A 
number of families but thirty-five miles from us are 
entirely cut off. Farmers are flying from their 
plantations to Reading. An alarm was given us 
about twelve o’clock last night. We assembled in 
the square, say about three hundred, but we had 
only fifty guns. It was shocking to hear what we 
expected, that at such a moment we had neither a 
sufficiency of ammunition or of arms. Thanks be 
to God, the alarm was false. The block-house will 
be built on the north side of Queen Street. There 
will be a wide ditch, and over this ditch a small 
bridge. One important use of the block-house will 
be to put wives and children and the old people 
into it. . . These are fearful times. God only 

knows how they will end.” 

“These marauding parties of Indians,” says Daniel 
Rupp in his “ History of Lancaster County,” pub- 


94 


BARON STIEGEL. 


lished in 1847 (f rom which the above letter and the 
facts that follow are quoted), “ hung on the frontier 
during the entire winter, and in the month of Jan- 
uary, 1756, attacked the settlements on the Juniata 
River. They scalped or took prisoners all the in- 
habitants who did not have time to escape. They 
laid waste the farms, butchered the cattle, and 
burned the farm buildings.” 

John Harris was himself once tied to a tree with 
fire built about him, on the bank of the Susque- 
hanna, on what is now Front Street in the city of 
Harrisburg. He was rescued from imminent death 
by a party of friendly Indians who landed from the 
other side of the river, just in time to save him. 
Just before his perilous experience he wrote to 
Edward Shippen from Paxton (October 29th, 1755) : 
“Sir, we expect the enemy upon us every day, and 
the inhabitants are abandoning their homes, being 
greatly discouraged at the appearance of so numer- 
ous a band of savages, and no sign of assistance. 
The Indians are cutting us off every day, and I 
have a certain account of about fifteen hundred 
Indians, besides the French, being on our border, 
their scouts scalping our families on our frontier 
daily. I have this day cut holes into my own house, 
and am determined to hold out to the last extremity, 
if I can get some men to stand by me.” 


INDIANS. 


95 


It is no wonder that he continues in another part 
of this same letter : “As soon as we are prepared 
for them, we must bid up for scalps, and keep the 
woods full of our people hunting them, or they will 
ruin our province.” 

A letter to Governor Morris from Conrad Wei- 
ser, dated October 30th, 1755, refers to this same 
invasion. After depicting the danger to the living 
and the horrors already committed, it tells how 
John Harris and others went to Shamokin to bury 
the settlers cruelly murdered and scalped by the 
dusky foe. 

Was it a wonder, therefore, that our forefathers 
saw the necessity of exterminating an enemy so 
cruel and treacherous ? Was it a wonder that the 
white man was ever upon their heels for their dis- 
patch ? By the very law of their nature, and by 
the law of God, they were destined to a slow but 
sure extinction. Wherever the smoke of their wig- 
wams has arisen or their council fires have burned, 
they have been the sworn foe of the white man. 
They have been a menace to progress and civil- 
ization from its first appearance on these Western 
shores. 

But we must turn our attention to the events in 
the Huber settlement. We have seen that the 
friendly Indian had acted as a scout and returned to 


96 


BARON STIEGEL. 


the village with the glad news that the Indians 
had withdrawn to the deeper recesses of the forest. 
It was not many hours before the courage of the 
people in the little town had returned, and they 
drove their cattle to pasture, gathered fuel from the 
edge of the forest, or hunted for nuts, as they had 
done before the events recorded. Among those 
who went to the forest in search of shellbarks were 
the teacher and companion of Elizabeth and an- 
other young woman of the settlement. They had 
been warned not to go beyond the edge of the 
clearing, but, emboldened by the report of the 
Conestoga and the quiet and peaceful appearance 
of the forest, they must have ventured deeper 
into its recesses than they themselves were aware. 
It was never known just how far they had gone ; 
but when noon came the women did not return. 
Slowly the noon faded into the short hours of the 
autumn afternoon, and still there was no sign of 
their return. 

Early in the afternoon Baron Stiegel had sent 
two trusted employees, well armed, to search 
for the missing women. They had searched far 
and near for more than two hours, but had seen no 
trace of them. When they returned, the settle- 
ment was once more thoroughly aroused. Women 
became hysterical with fright and gloomy appre- 


INDIANS. 


97 


hension. Searching bands, all well armed, pierced 
the forest, cautiously and stealthily, but nothing 
could be seen or heard of the lost ones. All that 
moonlight night and the next forenoon the 
search was continued. The Conestoga was sum- 
moned from his home and acquainted with the 
facts ; but he could not believe that the women 
had been abducted by the marauders who had in- 
fested the forest on the edge of the settlement a 
few days before. There was only one thing to be 
done ; the Conestoga could be sent in pursuit of 
the Indians, and, if possible, discover whether 
Elizabeth’s teacher and her companion were held 
as prisoners. It would cost him his own life, he 
well knew, should he be discovered by the wary 
foe ; but, brave man that he was, he undertook the 
business. He was gone a week When he finally 
returned he said he had great difficulty in ap- 
proaching the rapidly retreating Indians. Those 
whom he saw on the march and in the camp had 
no prisoners with them ; but he had reason to be- 
lieve that, aside from this band, there was another, 
who had pushed on, loaded with plunder and ham- 
pered with prisoners. He had seen two scalped 
bodies of dead women; but they were not the 
women he was seeking. For the present, there- 
fore, we must leave the poor women’s fate in un- 

7 


9 8 


BARON STIEGEI,. 


certainty. Perhaps, like scores of others on this 
raid, they were dragged into a captivity which was 
far worse than death. 

We need not remind our readers that the disap- 
pearance and probable death of Elizabeth’s teacher 
cast a shadow over all the remainder of her life. 
The Baron spent much money in his efforts to dis- 
cover whether any had seen the women. As the 
days gradually wore on and no tidings were re- 
ceived, all but Elizabeth gave up hoping that the 
women might yet return. We must close this 
chapter by leaving their fate in doubt. Wherever 
they were, if still living, they were not beyond 
Him who has said : “ When thou passest through 
the waters, I will be with thee ; and through the 
rivers, they shall not overflow thee ; when thou 
walkest through the fire thou shalt not be burned ; 
neither shall the flame kindle upon thee ” (Isa. 
xlii. 2). 


CHAPTER X. 


FRITZ. 

It has been said, “There is method in man’s 
wickedness. It grows up by degrees.” So far we 
have not discovered much method in Fritz’s wick- 
edness. He has spent most of his time in making 
plans and failing to carry them out, more for lack 
of courage than confidence in the ultimate result. 
It is quite certain that at the time of our story his 
wickedness was full grown, although his methods 
in the exercise thereof were much at fault. Those 
who follow this tale to the end will see that his 
cunning improved, and that his methods became 
subtle as those of that old serpent whose first temp- 
tation “ brought death into the world and all our 
woe.” The evil impulses in his nature, which had 
now taken deep root, made him dissatisfied with his 
work, his wages, and, in fact, with everybody and 
everything. He made the same mistake thousands 
are making to-day — he forgot to make God his 
friend and to seek His guidance and protection 
every day. Hugh Miller, in his advice to working- 

( 99 ) 


100 


BARON STIEGEE. 


men (New Walks in an Old Field), says : “ Do not 
seek happiness in what is misnamed pleasure ; seek 
it rather in what is termed study. Keep your con- 
science clear, your curiosity fresh, and embrace 

every opportunity of cultivating your minds 

Read good books, not forgetting the best of all. 
There is more true philosophy in the Bible than in 
every work of every skeptic that ever wrote ; and 
we would be all miserable creatures without it, and 
none more miserable than you.” 

Contentment, with a pure conscience, is the best 
treasure that a man can possess. It yields a con- 
stant income. Fritz, because he had long since lost 
a pure conscience, never knew contentment. He 
could not long remain in any place before his 
wicked, unregenerate nature urged him to the per- 
petration of some mischief, if not crime, and, 
therefore, all good men shunned him. Fritz had 
made up his mind to leave Huber’s employ before 
Stiegel came, and he had also determined, as we 
have seen, to make others guilty of crime, and 
lead them with him. But in this he was disap- 
pointed. The reason he was disappointed was that 
his companions, ever since they had come under 
Huber’s influence, were allowing their better na- 
tures to assert themselves. Every Sabbath they 
attended divine services in the big dining room of 


FRITZ. 


IOI 


the Huber home. The quiet, unostentatious read- 
ing of a sermon, preached before in the Fatherland, 
and the hearty singing of good old German hymns, 
stirred very tender memories in the men who were 
once willing to enter into Fritz’s diabolical plans, 
which a merciful Providence kept them from exe- 
cuting. The quiet contentment of those men who 
had come with Fritz to the Huber mansion was 
the first evidence that the religious atmosphere 
which pervaded the Huber settlement was subdu- 
ing and healing the evil in their natures. Fritz 
only once or twice attended the services in the 
Huber home, and then only out of a spirit of curi- 
osity. There could be no pleasure for him in lis- 
tening to the reading of long dry sermons, incul- 
cating doctrines which no man could ever live ! 

Years have passed away since those men were 
under the influence of Huber’s life and doctrine. 
The men have long since quietly passed out of this 
life into the great and boundless future. Most of 
them sleep in the quiet “ God’s-acre ” in the little 
hamlet of Brickerville. They lived like the moun- 
tain flowers, seen by few, but they made the world 
sweeter and better by their having lived. If it had 
not been that they yielded their lives to the Spirit’s 
call during those quiet Sabbath mornings they 
would never have attained the end of their creation. 


BARON STIEGEE. 


102 

Kind reader, if you are slowly but surely drift- 
ing into a life in which the services of the sanctuary 
have no attractions, you would do well to stop and 
think. Remember that where men and women 
go to church and love the sanctuary, there and 
there alone life is safe and the home pure and 
happy. There and there alone the arts and sciences 
have developed and given man his highest reward 
for his toil and his best comforts for his hours of 
weariness. The influence of the church is like the 
sand reed which grows on the sandy shores of 
Europe. Its roots spread in all directions and form 
a network which binds together the sands into 
staple soil. Its broad leaves protect the surface 
from the scorching sands and thus affords shelter 
to smaller plants which soon find a home among 
the tall stalks. Thus the strange life of these 
hardy plants protects the shore from the fury of 
the waves and keeps the winds from drifting the 
sands over the more fertile soil in the interior. So 
it is with the church. The Holy Spirit, in and 
through her ministrations, transforms men’s lives. 
It keeps evil from gaining the ascendency. It 
gives peace and prosperity to a community, and, 
above all, it makes bright the hope of heaven. If 
you are slipping away from the church and the 
service of the sanctuary, you are slipping away 


FRITZ. 


103 


from that which is noblest in your soul and which 
will give you the highest peace in this life and that 
which is to come. 

Fritz made this mistake. He had been piously 
reared ; but because he thought he could better en- 
joy his life away from the hallowed influences of a 
godly home, he left his home in his youth. He 
drifted into the little city where Stiegel was reared. 
He fell into evil ways, and finally killed a man in a 
drunken brawl. Stiegel was the chief witness 
against him. In some way, before his sentence 
was spoken from the judge’s seat, which would 
have ended his career then and there, he escaped 
from custody. He took ship and came to America 
in disguise. Strange to say, as we have already 
seen, he blamed Baron Stiegel for his sins, his fail- 
ures in life. It was thus that he became the life- 
long enemy of the man who had done him no evil, 
but had simply appeared on the side of truth and 
justice. 

We shall seldom hear concerning this bad man, 
in this narrative ; but when we do hear it will 
never be anything of which a true man could feel 
proud, or anything over which a mother could re- 
joice in the life of her son. His influence will 
hang over at least one life in this narrative like the 
blighting influences of a deadly miasma. 


104 BARON STlEGEL. 

Strange as it may seem, Fritz was in the com- 
pany of the savage invaders who had come to the 
Huber settlement to plunder, to murder, and to de- 
stroy. Just how he insinuated himself into the 
confidence of the men who led the savage foe is 
not so easily to determine. The Conestoga Indian 
had seen him in their company, and he was sure 
that his hand sent the ball which he hoped would 
end the career of Stiegel. 

We cannot close this part of our account of this 
evil man’s life without calling attention to the fact 
that the opinion of some of our modern philoso- 
phers, that a man is. just what his ancestors have 
made him, is plainly contradicted in the life of 
Fritz. We have already referred to his pious an- 
cestry. Had he followed those impulses which 
were implanted in his nature by his early teaching 
and by the very blood which surged in his veins, 
he would never have become the man he was at the 
time our readers were first introduced to him. How- 
ever potent heredity may be in the very widest sense 
of the term, it is not so potent that it cannot be 
destroyed when once a single bad habit is allowed to 
form. Our habits, like barnacles on the bottom of 
a ship, will do much to deter our speed toward the 
attainment of the goal — a happy and a prosperous 
life here and heaven hereafter. How true it is that 


FRITZ. 


105 

“ 111 habits gather by unseen degrees, 

As brooks make rivers, rivers run to seas.” 

It is related of a man who had committed a murder 
that, instead of being executed, he was condemned 
to sleep for seven years on a bedstead without any 
mattress, the whole surface of which was studded 
with points of iron resembling nails, but not sharp 
enough to lacerate the skin. At the end of the 
fifth year he had become so accustomed to his ter- 
rible couch, and his skin had become so tough, that 
he said at the end of his seven years he would 
probably continue to sleep on the same bed in the 
same way. Whether the story be true or false, it is 
a good illustration of how one can accustom one’s- 
self to that which is very obnoxious at first. Evil 
men become so wedded to their habits that life 
would hold no charm were they to quit their evil 
practices. 

It may be asked, then, why try to change their 
lives? Because evil indulged unfits men for the 
high and holy destiny for which God intended 
them. The very habits of life which seem to hold 
a charm for their votaries in the end make miser- 
able and destroy the soul in hell. The final out- 
come is so awful that we shrink from an attempt 
to portray it in these pages. 

There is but one deliverance for him who is the 


io6 


BARON STIEGEL. 


slave of evil. That deliverance is found at the 
cross of Christ. “ He that hath the Son hath life, 
and he that hath not the Son hath not life.” “We 
have all sinned and come short of the glory of 
God.” When we come to Christ, who died for the 
sins of the whole world, and confess our sins, “ He 
is faithful and just to forgive us our sins.” It has 
been well said : 

“ Ah, grace, into unlikeliest hearts 
It is thy boast to come ; 

The glory of thy light to find 
In darket spots a home.” 

When once a soul is brought into the full light 
of truth, it abhors itself. * When cleansed from its 
iniquity, it realizes that what it supposed the highest 
life was but death. When once the old past has let go 
and dropped into the grave, the joy of deliverance is 
beyond what human tongue can tell. If you, kind 
reader, have not yet experienced the truth of what 
I have said, I beseech you learn it from your own 
personal experience. 


CHAPTER XI. 


A MARRIAGE. 

In a little more than one year after Stiegel had 
first visited the Huber home, he led the comely 
Elizabeth to the altar of the first Lutheran Church 
in what is now Brickerville. Much of the money 
necessary for the erection of this church was given 
by the father of Elizabeth ; it was, therefore, emi- 
nently proper that she should be the first bride led 
to the altar. 

One naturally wonders how the bride was 
dressed. Her costume can best be described by say- 
ing that she was adorned after the manner of brides 
in those early and simple days of American life. 
The style was not as elaborate as now, but we ven- 
ture to say that it was almost as uncomfortable. 
Elizabeth was clad after the style of English rather 
than German brides. In addition to the white satin 
gown imported from England, she wore the wreath 
of roses about her brow which to this day is a part 
of the outfit of every German bride. The young 
ladies who became the brides of the sturdy young 
(io 7 ) 


io8 


BARON STIEGEL. 


yeomen in the province were quite content to be 
adorned in the white linen their own hands had 
spun and woven. Elizabeth adorned in white satin 
was, therefore, the bride of all others that attracted 
attention in all the neighborhood. 

Stiegel determined that everyone in the village 
should, as far as lay in his power, be happy on his 
wedding-day. The work in the furnace and forge 
and shops was suspended all that day. The busy 
hum of toil gave way to shouts of mirth. It was 
May, and the day was as fair as bright sunshine 
and balmy zephyrs could make it. Every person 
in the village, and there were several hundred souls 
in the town, shared the wedding dinner in the long 
dining-room of the Huber mansion. 

“ He that hath a wife and child,” says Francis 
Bacon, “hath given hostages to fortune.” How- 
ever true this may have been in the olden days, it 
is not quite so evident that simply because a man 
has children, therefore, his fortune is uncertain. 
Very often trickery and rascality have fortune’s 
smile, if fortune’s smile can be identified with the 
hoarding of wealth. Virtue and greatness of soul 
may for a while be poor in this world’s goods, 
but their reward is as sure as the promises of God. 
With Stiegel and his bride virtue and morality 
were angels whose presence they had courted all 


A MARRIAGE. IO9 

their lives, and now that their lives were linked 
in one destiny, virtue and morality were enthroned 
monarchs in their home. Because virtue and 
morality had reigned supreme in their early life, 
their love for each other was as pure as He who made 
the twain one flesh originally intended all love to 
be, and without which the peace and joy of every 
wedded pair is marred. 

More precious to them was the consciousness of 
their unsullied love for each other than the posses- 
sion of all their material wealth. If the God of 
their lives would permit them to live long years to- 
gether they might lose their wealth, but their love 
for each other would never grow less, because it 
was founded on virtue, and because they seemed to 
have been formed for each other. Their love for 
each other would feed their souls with its ambrosial 
food when all other nourishment would fail. Every- 
one in the little village seemed conscious of the 
fact that the Baron was the “ Half part of a blessed 
man left to be finished by such as she, and she a 
fair divine excellence whose fullness of perfection 
lay in him.” 

In those days wedding trips were not so frequent, 
largely because they could not be made with the 
same safety, ease, and comfort as they are to-day. 
Nor were there the same attractions away from home 


no 


BARON STIEGEE. 


that there are now. The foundations of many of 
the cities which to-day are veritable Meccas of at- 
traction and delight to a newly wedded pair were 
still unlaid in the primeval forests and boundless 
prairies. The network of iron rails had not yet 
been spun over all the continent, holding the 
great cities as the prizes for those who spin the 
webs. In those days there were no railroads with 
their palatial Pullman parlor cars and their dining 
palaces, which to-day make traveling a comfort 
and a luxury for the poor and a common every-day 
affair for the rich. 

But notwithstanding the discomfort and tedium 
of travel, Baron Stiegel and his bride took a wed- 
ding trip. The City of Brotherly Love was chosen 
as the theatre in which the newly wedded pair 
would spend their honeymoon. The Old World 
with its attractions and friends was separated from 
America by an ocean which in those days seemed 
well-nigh boundless. To cross its waters in the 
frail, wooden, slow-going sailing ships was to tempt 
Providence and to take one’s life in his own hands. 
This is the reason the Baron and his bride were 
content to go to Philadelphia ; but Philadelphia, in 
those days, was as far from Lancaster, when we 
take time and discomfort into consideration, as 
New York and Chicago are to-day. 


A marriage;. 


Ill 


The day after the wedding, the bridal veil was 
folded and laid upon the gown of rich satin in 
which Elizabeth had publicly declared her vows of 
love and fidelity to the man of her choice. The 
crown of wild roses which had adorned her brow 
on that great day crowned the little snowy heap 
made by dress and veil in the chest of cedar, inlaid 
with plates of polished bone, which her father had 
given her on her wedding day. These were to be 
left in the home-nest until she would return from 
the city. 

The party consisted, besides bride and groom, of 
six armed men, and formed a cavalcade which was 
no unfrequent sight in those days when the mail- 
coaches ran regularly between Lancaster and Phila- 
delphia. In fact, the armed men accompanied the 
bridal party all the way to their destination, al- 
though they journeyed in company with the regular 
stage-coach to the city. This arrangement per- 
mitted the lady to exchange from the saddle to the 
coach, and thus to lessen the fatigue of the journey. 

The journey was made in safety in three days, 
without incident or anything to disturb the party. 
The Baron concluded to take his bride to the hotel 
which had been his home when he first came to 
Philadelphia from Germany. This was not be- 
cause the homes of the friends of Huber, as well as 


1 12 BARON STIEGEIy. 

of Stiegel, were closed against them, but because 
they preferred to use those homes socially, and not 
as temporary dwelling-places. The months of their 
sojourn in the city were as a continuous summer 
day, filled with flowers, luscious fruits, and the 
songs of birds. The Baron spent his days in min- 
istering to the comfort and happiness of his Eliza- 
beth, and the laying of plans for the beautifying 
and embellishing of the Huber mansion, which both 
the newly wedded and the parents of Elizabeth 
considered sufficiently large for the two families. 

Many days before the party returned to their 
home, a big Conestoga wagon drawn by six oxen 
had been loaded with the finest and most costly 
furniture the city offered, and sent to the Huber 
home. When the Baron and his bride finally ar- 
rived, the furniture had been neatly stored in a 
vacated room, awaiting the arrival of the wedded 
pair. 

Baron Stiegel had resolved that his bride was to 
have two homes, the one given her by her father in 
the forest, the other one of the better private city 
properties in Philadelphia. In the latter he hoped 
they might spend most of their winters ; in the 
former they would breathe the balmy resinous airs 
of the spring and summer and autumn. The Baron 
lovingly said to his wife they would be like a pair 


A MARRIAGE. 


JI 3 

of migratory birds, they would have two home-nests, 
each one always ready to receive them whenever 
they would choose to come to it. Thus they would 
neither pine in solitude nor be maddened by the 
rush and swirl of city life. He prized the noise 
and bustle of the one and the solitude of the other 
far too much to forego either entirely. 

So they planned and so they dreamed of their 
future. So we all, in our own way, plan and 
dream, and so we all die, without fully carrying out 
our plans or realizing our hopes. Hope, the virgin 
sister of the three graces, allows all of the race to 
lay hold upon the hem of her garment and even to 
clutch her robes, but she gives to none in this life 
all that she promises or half they wish. Her sis- 
ter, love, must make up for many of the disap- 
pointments which she ruthlessly causes. Yet, not- 
withstanding all her disappointments and all the 
fickleness of her nature, love desires her at her 
side, because even love grows stronger and sweeter 
whilst she leans upon hope or admiringly walks by 
her side. 

There is only one hope which can never be fickle, 
and that is the Christian’s hope. No matter how 
dark the night of the world’s experience, the Chris- 
tian’s hope, which, like a star that no darkness can 
quench, shines serenely on. In order to enjoy the 
8 


BARON STIEGER. 


114 

sweetness of this hope you must be born again. 
When once the new life has entered your soul you 
will never again be just exactly as you were be- 
fore. The world may think you are, but God and 
the angels know that you are not ; and if you con- 
tinue in Christ, which is quite probable, for they 
that have once tasted the heavenly gift are not 
easily separated, you will be invincible because of 
this abiding hope. 

We need not say that Baron Stiegel failed to 
realize all that hope then promised ; but of this we 
are sure, that ten thousand times more than hope 
promised would not have made up for the sweets of 
love which the Baron and his Elizabeth enjoyed 
during the six months of their sojourn in the City 
of Brotherly Eove. Time did not hang heavily on 
leaden wings for them. It flew on the wings of 
light. The summer faded into early autumn, and 
still they lingered in the city. When at last they 
did return, the leaves were already dead and driven 
before the bitter winds of November. Where they 
continued to cling to the branches, such as the oak, 
they were stripped of their amber and gold and 
were turned into a dusky brown by the cold frosts 
and chilling rains. The two days’ journey, with 
its mud and sleet and cold that pierced the very 
marrow, was not over a moment too soon. Eliza- 


A MARRIAGE. 


JI 5 

beth was glad to see the smoke of furnace and 
forge as it floated on the wings of the wind above 
the skeleton branches of the bare trees or was 
whirled to the ground as if the icy air were angry 
with everything warm. When Elizabeth was 
finally lifted out of her saddle by the warm, loving 
arms of her father, she felt that the dearest spot 
after all was her own loved home. 

The furniture to which we have already alluded 
was soon placed in the rooms which were to be ex- 
clusively their own. Baron Stiegel now for the 
first time for several years, and more than in all his 
life before, felt the charms of home, because this 
house was to be the resort where love reigned su- 
preme and was the beacon of his joy, the haven of 
his peace, and the place of plenty. All the com- 
forts of domestic life which the times afforded were 
found in that home. The first stoves in America 
were made by Herr Huber, and used in his own 
home. They were big, uncouth, ten-plated affairs, 
but in those days even these were rarer in the home 
than the piano is now. 

The very next morning the Baron entered in full 
upon the work which he had assumed when he be- 
came half-owner of the Huber estate and its indus- 
tries. All the life he had already spent in the 
Huber home was made golden by the wand of love. 


BARON STIEGEE. 


Il6 

The toil which to others was most severe and per- 
plexing, to him was easy because it was supported 
by love. The difficulties attending the manage- 
ment of his business were unraveled because his 
soul was made strong by love’s tonic. 

Did the Baron during those happy days ever think 
that there might come a burden to his shoul- 
ders when love would no longer bear the heavier 
end? Did he dream that there would soon come 
seasons of trouble into which he would be com- 
pelled to plunge alone, unsupported by the buoying 
hand of love and uncheered by its smile ? What a 
mercy that coming events, in our individual lives, 
seldom cast their shadows far before them. 

Troubles may be like birds of prey burying their 
talons deeply into the soul ; but it is a blessed 
comfort to know that under the shadows of their 
wings grace can work out her highest achieve- 
ments. The bitterest tears of sorrow, like summer 
rain-drops pierced by the sunbeam, are made to 
sparkle in the light of God’s presence. The glo- 
rious angel who keeps the gates of light beholds 
the tears of our sorrow as well as the smile of our 
joys, and in his sight both are equally precious. 
Repine not because you have many sorrows. If 
there were no rain-drops there could be no rain- 
bows of promise and delight. 


A MARRIAGE. 


II 7 

Perhaps these lines would never have been writ- 
ten, for it is ever more pleasant to write about joy 
than to record the sad events to which every life is 
heir, had not the life of Stiegel been made so soon 
to feel the black surges, even while he stood bathed 
in the morning light of his domestic felicity. But 
we must not anticipate. Whatever may come in 
his life or in yours, kind reader, remember “ God 
is our refuge and strength, a very present help in 
trouble, therefore will not we fear.” 


CHAPTER XII. 


HOUSEKEEPING. 

Baron Stiegel and his Elizabeth had now fully 
set sail on life’s solemn main. The sea was 
smooth before them. The line of their vision, 
where the horizon of the present lost itself in the 
boundless beyond, had not a single cloudlet. 

Let us look into their home-nest. Let us walk 
through their newly furnished rooms, their “ halls 
of oak and tinted pearl.” We see many things 
that are pretty and costly. There is the great high 
bed, with its couch of newly gathered chaff or 
cut straw. The great high bed-posts are covered 
with the canopy of homespun linen. The pillows 
are filled with pure white feathers from geese raised 
in the green meadows and by the clear mountain 
streams. The log-fire, in the cold winter nights, 
blazes cheerily in the open fireplace, in the early 
part of the night ; but, toward morning, it smoul- 
ders into dying embers, which cast fantastic shad- 
ows on the milk-white ceiling. These shadows are 
concealed from the eyes of the wakeful by the 
canopy which covers the bed. 

(n8) 


HOUSEKEEPING. 


II 9 

At early morn a servant brings a pewter pitcher 
full of steaming water and sets it inside the door. 
It is the signal for rising. The simple toilet is 
soon made. The Baron and his wife greet the 
others of the family in the large dining-room. A 
hymn of praise to the Creator for His watchful care 
during the night is sung, and either Herr Huber 
or the Baron reads a few verses from the family 
Bible. Then one of them leads in prayer. The 
morning meal is eaten and each goes to his work. 
In those days there was more family religion. Busi- 
ness was not so exacting that it left no time for 
family worship. The hours of toil were longer ; 
but there was not that feverish haste and the 
myriad little duties and cares which rob us of all 
leisure and usurp the place of God in our hearts 
and minds. 

The facilities for doing the work, whether of the 
shop or the farm, were meagre indeed, when com- 
pared with to-day. When Penn and the early set- 
tlers came to what is now the great Keystone State 
they found the land covered with forests. With the 
few simple tools at their command they had great 
difficulty in clearing the ground in order that they 
might raise a few simple crops. They generally 
adopted the same methods of clearing the soil that 
the Indians used. They cleared the land by col- 


120 


BARON STIEGEE. 


lecting dry wood around green trees. To this fire 
was set and the bark burned. The Indians burned 
the life out of the giants of the forest, in the same 
way in which they roasted it out of the giant hearts 
of our ancestors. There was one marked differ- 
ence. The more white men roasted the more there 
were to take the place of the fallen ones. It was 
not so with the monarchs of the forest. They 
slowly but surely yielded their places to the green 
meadows and the fields of waving grain. The 
forest, like the Redmen, have slowly but surely 
disappeared with the incoming tide of civilization. 

Farming, even in the days of Stiegel, was very 
primitive, when compared with modern improved 
methods. The ground was dug up with rude hoes 
or mattocks. The wooden plough was not dis- 
placed by one of iron before 1825. (The iron 
plough was invented in 1820, but not universally 
used until some time afterward.) Wooden ploughs 
were scarce in those early days. Corn and potatoes 
were farmed by digging holes from three to four 
feet apart, into which the seed was dropped. The 
early New England farmers, living near the coast, 
fertilized each hill by depositing a fish with the 
seed. Thus it was they ate fish in their corn as 
well as with it. Perhaps it was the large supplies 
of brain food , taken in this way, that made the 


housekeeping. 


121 


early New Englanders such brainy fellows. The 
crops thus raised were gathered in the most prim- 
itive way, so that the few bushels of corn and po- 
tatoes consumed more time in the harvesting than 
is now spent in gathering the millions upon mil- 
lions of bushels. 

The Baron and his wife did not know anything 
of the many conveniences which in our day have 
become a veritable necessity. For instance, no 
butcher drove from house to house in the country 
or the town, with choice fresh meats. Game and salt 
meats were the almost universal food for nine long 
months in the year. Nothing was known of pre- 
serving ripe fruits in cans, so that the fruits of sum- 
mer were not served, as now, in the depths of win- 
ter, almost as fresh and luscious as when first taken 
from the trees. 

The furniture in the houses was of the simplest 
and the rudest kinds. We have already spoken of 
the canopied beds in the stone mansion ; but we 
must remember that there were few of these 
princely couches to be found in the New World. 
Here, in America, every man was his own joiner. 
The humblest American workman now has a better 
furnished home than royalty could possibly secure 
when Stiegel and his wife began their domestic 
life. 


122 


BARON STlEGEE. 


The lucifer match was not invented until 1829. 
The tinder and flint were the only means for re- 
kindling fire when once it died out upon the huge 
open hearth, or in the ten-plate stove, of which we 
shall have more to say in these chapters. Some- 
times the early settlers went miles to bring fire to 
their bleak hearths before they could cook a meal 
or secure even a moderate degree of comfort in their 
log-houses. Coal oil was unknown as a burning 
fluid before 1826, and did not come into common 
use before the War of the Rebellion. Illuminat- 
ing gas was not used before 1792, and then only as 
an experiment, by a William Murdoch, of Corn- 
wall, England. In 1813 Eondon Bridge was lighted 
with gas. It gave such universal satisfaction to 
all who crossed the historic thoroughfare that the 
whole city was soon lighted in the same way. Be- 
fore that it was lighted by fat lamps, one being 
placed in front of every tenth door. What the largest 
cities of the Old World could not enjoy was, of 
course, lacking in the towns and primitive cities of 
the New World. The Stiegel home had its oil 
lamps, but the homes in the settlements did not 
possess them before Stiegel and Huber forged the 
iron plates out of which their skilled workmen 
fashioned them without solder. 

Almost every home in the more progressive set- 


HOUSEKEEPING. 


123 


tlement had a huge timber loom and a spinning 
wheel. Crompton’s spinning mule was not in- 
vented until 1775. The power loom came thirteen 
years afterward, and the cotton gin in 1793 ; but 
none of these were in common use before the nine- 
teenth century. Young ladies spun the threads, 
wove the fabric, and made the clothing for their 
personal adornment, as well as their own table- 
cloths, sheets, napkins, and, in fact, every article 
from the simplest to the most ornamental. 

The life of those early people in America was 
intensely busy, but it was not without its amuse- 
ments and its frolics. The husking-bee and the ap- 
ple-butter boiling were not wholly unknown even in 
the days of Stiegel and Elizabeth, nor is it wholly 
forgotten or entirely displaced by our modern and 
more expensive and demoralizing amusements 
which have caught in their maddening swirl the 
lads and lassies of our more quiet country places. 
The people and their wants, in those days, may 
have been simpler, but their piety and morality 
were none the less sincere. We may smile at their 
innocence and their faith, but it must be remem- 
bered that in those days and in the hearts of those 
people was born everything which distinguishes 
the American from the citizen of every other land, 
and which makes him so justly proud that he was 


124 BARON STIEGEE. 

born an American and reared in American institu- 
tions. May God graciously keep the American 
people from becoming untrue to the principles of 
right and liberty which our forefathers purchased 
at so great a price, and which they valued more 
highly than their own life. 

We have already seen how Stiegel and Eliza- 
beth made a journey to Philadelphia, on their wed- 
ding trip. It is difficult for our young readers to 
realize that even at the beginning of the nineteenth 
century there were no railroads and no steamboats. 
In the first quarter of last century men and women 
traveled many miles to see the first railroad train. 
In our day it is seldom that anyone has missed 
riding on a railroad train, but in those days it was 
just as seldom that anyone had ridden on a train. 
Then, poor people traveled on foot, and as little as 
possible. The rich traveled on horseback or in 
lumbering coaches, just as did our friends on their 
wedding trip. There were no telegraphic commu- 
nications. Messages were sent on horseback, and, 
under favorable circumstances, by carrier pigeons. 
When the battle of Waterloo was fought, in 1815, 
it required three days before the news could be 
known in London. To-day, were that battle in 
progress, it is likely every detail of the fight would 
be known on the streets of that city better than it 


HOUSEKEEPING. 


125 


could be known by the private soldier engaged in 
the fight. When Admiral Dewey entered Manilla 
Bay on May 1st, 1898, the news was known in 
every town with telegraphic communication, almost 
as soon as his flagship passed the first Spanish fort. 
The result of the fight was known in America at 
noon, as people came home from church. 

So the world has advanced since the days of 
Stiegel and his bride, but then, as now, the night 
brightened into dawn, the shadows deepened or 
lightened over forest and field beneath the passing 
cloud ; then, as now, the robin fed her nested young, 
the lark soared in the morning sunlight and sang 
its hymn of praise as it rose above the dew-kissed 
grass. Then, as now, the lover poured forth his 
passion into the willing ears of blushing maiden. 
With all our changes nature has not changed. The 
face of nature changes with the passing mood of 
the generation, which nature serves, but her laws 
are eternal, and by them she will abide until time 
shall be no more. 

The same deep passions which ruled the heart in 
the days of which we are writing rule human 
hearts to-day. True love to-day is like marble in 
the mine, “ White at its heart as on its face.” Take 
love out of the world and you have robbed her of 
her sweetest joy and her wildest woe. Take love 


126 


BARON STIEGEE. 


from the heart and you take the light from the sun 
and add darkness to the night ; you rob music of 
its melody, and home of its divinity. Though 
commerce on her countless keels busily skims from 
shore to shore, bringing wares from far, the olden 
days, with their deprivations, were just as full of 
joy for those who knew nothing better. So we 
will not pity them for what they had not, but re- 
joice rather that they lived so near to nature’s 
heart, and knew so much of the dear Father “ who 
so loved the world that he gave his only begotten 
Son, that whosoever believeth on him ” shall love 
with a purer, undying affection because of Him. 
Well has Mrs. Livermore said, “ To live in love is 
to live in everlasting youth. Whoever enters old 
age by this royal road will find the last of life to 
be the very best of life. Instead of finding him- 
self descending the hills of life, he will find it up- 
hill all the way, into clearer air. There the vision 
reaches further ; here the sunsets are more golden 
and the twilight lasts longer.” 


CHAPTER XIII. 


A DISTINGUISHED VISITOR. 

Whatever may be said with regard to the settle- 
ments in Eastern Pennsylvania, in the third quar- 
ter of the eighteenth century, it must be admitted 
that, whilst more numerous and consequently closer 
together, they nevertheless were like little oases of 
thriving crops and orchards, dotted with homes, in 
the midst of boundless forests. The Huber settle- 
ment was near what soon became a populous town, 
Lancaster ; but it must be remembered that visit- 
ors at the Hubers were few. There were whole 
months when no stranger made his appearance, 
either for pleasure or for profit. It has been well 
said, “ Little do men perceive what solitude is, and 
how far it extends ; for a crowd is not company, 
and faces are but a gallery of pictures, and talk 
but a tinkling cymbal, where there is no love.” 
But there are times when even love needs com- 
panionship beside the one to whom it is devoted. 
Love craves companionship, if for no other reason 
(127) 


128 


BARON STlEGEE. 


than to speak of the charms that have won its 
deepest devotion. Thus it was that even Elizabeth 
at times sighed for the appearance of some new 
face. 

In those early days in America, hospitality, even 
to those who were utter strangers, was given with 
a charming relish, which, in the opening of the 
twentieth century, is almost wholly lost. In the 
Huber settlement everybody was made welcome 
not only by the Baron and Herr Huber, but by the 
humblest of the village as well. Even the dogs 
wagged their tails in friendly welcome when the 
newcomer was a white man. For Indians they 
seemed to have the inborn hatred that was so often 
and so justly manifest in the conduct of their 
masters. 

When a stranger came the housewife brought 
out her best dishes and her finest homespun, and 
cumbered herself for hours in preparing the rich- 
est meal the house could afford. The spare room, 
when the house was large enough to afford one, as 
was the stone mansion of the Hubers, was dusted 
and aired, and, at evening, large stones or pans 
were warmed and placed between the sheets, to re- 
move the chill and damp from disuse. All this 
welcome was accented and emphasized in the looks, 
the conversation, and the entire behavior of the 


A DISTINGUISHED VISITOR. 1 29 

host. The thorough welcome made up for the 
fatigue of the long journey. In our day there has 
long since been lost the charming hospitality so 
characteristic of colonial life. In oUr eagerness to 
become rich we receive into our homes those whose 
favor we court, those who can repay in like coin all 
we give them. Even against the minister of the 
Gospel, when he comes with his brethren to devise 
the best methods for the advancement of the 
church, the door of the home is frequently closed, 
and he is sent to the hotel. In the busy home 
there is neither time nor desire for his conversation, 
his counsel, or his blessing. 

Although at the home of the Hubers visitors 
were more frequent than in the houses of the vil- 
lage, there were few to join the Baron and his 
young wife in their happiness. But it is our pleas- 
ure to record the visit of a man whose name is 
known to-day throughout the civilized world. This 
visitor was none other than the pious Count Zin- 
zendorf, who was then soon to set sail for his native 
land. This man had come to America with his 
daughter, Benigna, many years before Stiegel ar- 
rived. Through his preaching, the strong Mora- 
vian settlements at Bethlehem, Nazareth, Lititz, 
and other places in Eastern Pennsylvania were 
founded and named. He had also established the 
9 


BARON STIEGEE. 


13° 

first Moravian mission among the Indians of North 
America. 

Although the history proper of the Moravian 
Church does not begin before 1457, their prepara- 
tory history extends back as far as the ninth cen- 
tury of the Christian era. When Christianity was 
introduced into Bohemia and Moravia, by Cyril 
and Methodius, who gave the people a Slavic ver- 
sion of the Bible, the foundations of this great 
missionary church were laid. The church endured 
much persecution in the places where it had been 
founded, and, in 1722, several families took refuge 
on an estate in Saxony. This estate belonged to 
Count Zinzendorf, who received them and their 
doctrines with favor. Other Moravians soon joined 
them, and in five years a colony of three hundred 
persons lived on the Count’s estate. Zinzendorf 
soon became a bishop among them, and devoted 
himself entirely to their service. 

The Moravians have been a missionary church 
from the beginning, and, as such, made themselves 
felt in the colonization of our own State ; but their 
chief missionary work was among the Indians, and 
to this day they still have their mission points in 
California, Alaska, and Canada. One of the saddest 
episodes of their work occurred at Gnadenhiitten 
(tents of grace), in which is now Tuscarawas County, 


A DISTINGUISHED VISITOR. 131 

Ohio, where one hundred Moravian Indians were 
treacherously massacred by whites, on a suspicion, 
afterward proven to have been unfounded, of being 
implicated in raids made upon white settlements in 
our own State. 

We have thus given a somewhat extended refer- 
ence to the Moravians and their work, in order that 
our readers may know that Baron Stiegel and his 
Elizabeth felt themselves highly honored by this 
visit from Count Zinzendorf. His stay extended 
beyond a week. His mission may not have been 
the most worthy ; for he hoped that he might in- 
fluence the Baron to come into the communion of 
the church he loved so dearly. Had he succeeded 
in this, it is probable that the entire Huber settle- 
ment would have embraced the same faith, and 
there would never have grown up the strong Luth- 
eran community which is found in that part of the 
county of Lancaster. 

Whilst it is true that the Moravian Church is 
evangelical in the broadest sense of the term, and 
has for its motto that of Augustine, “ In essentials 
unity, in non-essentials liberty, in all things char- 
ity,” we nevertheless believe that the ends of the 
great Church have been best attained and the 
kingdom of Christ in the hearts of men best estab- 
lished by the fact that the Lutherans remained true, 


132 BARON STIEGEE. 

with few exceptions, to the Church in which they 
and their fathers before them had been confirmed 
in Germany. 

Baron Stiegel and the Count had frequent con- 
troversies, during that visit in the Stiegel home, 
with regard to the liturgy, the modes of worship, 
and ceremonies of the Moravian Church. That 
these controversies, at times, waxed hot we 
will not attempt to deny. They could not have 
been Germans without each maintaining that he 
was right, and the other wrong. For the moment 
their speech “ differed o’er their little story,” but 
the Baron never forgot that he was the host, and 
the distinguished and consecrated Count the guest. 
Their arguments never resulted in estrangement 
and persecution, which have so often been the case 
with religious disputes. Strange that the doctrines 
of the meek and lowly Nazarene have become the 
foundation for so much hatred, persecution, and 
bloodshed. And the end is not yet. But with 
Stiegel the sacred rites of hospitality could not be 
violated even in dispute over the rites of the church. 
When their controversies were ended, 

“ Blue was bluer than before, 

And the red was red once more.” 

It may be true that some u heads are as full of 


A DISTINGUISHED VISITOR. 1 33 

quarrels as an egg is full of meat,” and, because this 
is so, there never was a period in the Church of 
Christ that there were not controversies, yet Christ 
never sanctions quarreling in matters of faith any 
more than in anything which is not so tremendous 
in its results. It may be true that controversy, 
like the cloud that hangs on the mountain side, 
and for a time obscures the beauty and sublimity of 
the view, yet, when broken by the winds colder or 
warmer than the surrounding atmosphere, descends 
in refreshing showers upon the valley beneath, has 
served again and again to dispel the mists of error 
and doubt, and has thus proven a source of refresh- 
ing and blessing to the cause of right ; yet with it 
all, it has left wounds which time cannot heal, and 
has proven a rock upon which many a trusting 
soul has made shipwreck of its faith. With the 
great American general we say, “Let us have 
peace.” 

It is needless to say that, when the Count had 
finished his visit, both the Baron and his guest 
acknowledged themselves mutually benefited. The 
deep-toned piety of Count Zinzendorf quickened the 
religious life of Stiegel, which at this particular time 
was in greater danger of being swallowed up in 
formalism on the one hand, and his business and 
home-life on the other, than at any other time in 


134 


BARON STlKGEIv. 


all the Baron’s career. It has been thus always. 
Daily association with the world and the intense 
love for our own have a tendency to make our 
characters as much like those with whom we asso- 
ciate as the marbles in the school-boy’s pockets are 
one like the other. It is only when we come in 
contact with those lofty characters who have given 
their all to Christ, and who live in the closest com- 
munion with Him day by day, that we realize our 
own sluggish Christian life. Det no young dis- 
ciple of Jesus think that he can walk with the 
world in her amusements, her pleasures, without 
losing interest in Christ and His kingdom. The 
bear may hibernate for three months, but he is sure 
to appear lean and weak ; so the Christian may 
separate himself from the society of the good, and 
allow his religious nature to sleep, but when he 
awakes from that sleep — if awake he does before the 
judgment day — he will realize how lean and weak, 
spiritually, he has become. 

There was another visitor to the Stiegel home, 
who was better known in the settlement than Zin- 
zendorf. The name of Conrad Weiser was a house- 
hold word in the eastern part of what is now the 
great State of Pennsylvania. During the long and 
trying years of the French and Indian War, Weiser 
was the mediator between the settlers and the 


A DISTINGUISHED VISITOR. 1 35 

Indians. It was through his diplomacy that the 
friendly Indians were restrained from joining in 
open warfare against the whites. It is true many 
depredations were committed by them, but if they 
had openly declared war, and joined the western 
tribes in their work of plunder and murder, the 
settlers would have been exterminated. 

On the 17th of November, 1793, George Wash- 
ington, accompanied by General Joseph Heister and 
other distinguished people, stood at the lowly grave 
of Weiser. Washington said to the rest of the com- 
pany, “ Gentlemen, the departed man rendered 
many services to his country in a difficult period, 
and posterity will not forget him.” 

At the time of Weiser’s death, during a council 
held in Easton, one of the Indian chiefs said, “We, 
the Seven Nations, and our cousins are at a great 
loss and sit in darkness, as well as you, at the death 
of Conrad Weiser ; since we cannot so well under- 
stand each other.” 

This distinguished Lutheran layman, several 
years before his death, was sent for when a number 
of Indian chiefs consented to hold a council in 
Lancaster. On his way from his home to the 
council he paid Stiegel a visit, and together they 
discussed the prospects of growth and usefulness 
of their beloved Church in their own community 


BARON STIEGEE. 


136 

as well as in the different colonies founded and 
largely made up of German Lutherans. How in- 
teresting that conversation, could it be repeated, 
would be to the Lutheran readers of to-day. I am 
sure they could not foresee in their wildest dreams 
the growth and power of the Church of the Refor- 
mation in this country, any more than they could 
measure the possibilities of the country’s internal 
resources and power among the nations of the 
world. It is true many Americans, as well as those 
who had never set their foot on American soil, had 
some conceptions of the possibilities of the United 
Colonies. One of Ireland’s most distinguished states- 
men warned George III. against losing the power 
and influence of the colonies, and predicted their 
growth. He said : “ They might conquer your 

islands, and in the process of time advance to the 
Southern Continent of America, and either subdue 
their inhabitants or carry them along with them, 
and in the end not leave a foot of that hemisphere 
in the possession of an European power.” The 
United States could do this to-day, but it would 
be neither profitable nor consistent with the highest 
welfare of her people. 

We have recounted the visits of these two dis- 
tinguished men, Weiser and Zinzendorf, to the 
home of Stiegel, to show our readers that these 


A DISTINGUISHED VISITOR. 1 37 

early and more distinguished settlers were inter- 
ested in spiritual matters, as well as the peace and 
temporal prosperity of the community and the colo- 
nies in which their lot was cast. These men were 
patriots, not politicians, at least not in the modern 
sense of the term. True patriotism does not make 
self and success of party the first object. It is the 
patriot’s part, be he preacher, mechanic, or ruler, to 
work with all his strength toward the realization 
of ideal government, ideal humanity, in short. This 
can be done only by him who makes Jesus Christ 
his pattern and ideal. And this is what many of 
the men who were representative men did. There 
were unbelievers in the doctrines of Christ in 
council chamber and senate ; but it was the Chris- 
tian citizenship of the land which passed our nation’s 
laws, and Christian sentiment that enforced them. 

So we close this chapter by again asserting that 
Stiegel was a man who was in business for all that 
he could make honestly, but, whilst he was a thor- 
ough business man, he was at the same time a rep- 
resentative citizen, because he was a Christian and 
a patriot. In everything he believed that to act 
well for the moment was to perform a good action 
for all eternity. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


A BROKEN HEART. 

Baron Stiegee’S ship bearing his domestic bliss 
was now fully rigged, and its sails spread for a long 
and happy voyage. At least so he and his Elizabeth 
hoped, and so we devoutly wished as we saw their 
happiness in a former chapter. They had every 
reason to be happy — health, wealth, peace, and 
comfort. The latter two were the offspring of the 
former. I am sure that if the Baron and his wife 
would have been permitted to make their choice 
between health and wealth, they would have chosen 
the former rather than be deprived of it. Wealth 
often proves to its possessor what ingots are to the 
ass — a heavy burden and little comfort. Health, 
so long as it continues a man’s possession, enables 
him to enjoy whatever else God gives him ; at least 
so long as his conscience is clear. When health 
is gone the greatest riches are to their possessor 
what the best of food is to a man without good diges- 
tion. Frequently the poor envy the rich, as their 
handsome turnouts pass them by on the public 


A BROKEN HEART. 1 39 

highway or in the park, but just as frequently 
would those in the handsome equipages gladly 
change places, if they could enjoy the things their 
poorer neighbors have. God is good to all His 
children. What He denies one might prove a 
snare if it were given ; what He gives will prove a 
blessing, both in this life and that which is to 
come, if it be rightly used. 

Although our friends had just begun to enjoy 
their domestic felicity, there entered their home a 
great anxiety for the Baron and a keen suffering for 
his Elizabeth. During a severe exposure to a bliz- 
zard in a journey from her little village to Lan- 
caster, Mrs. StiegePs health was shattered by a 
severe cold. The cough, which at first was little 
feared by the robust Elizabeth, became more severe 
with each new remedy employed, until all who 
knew her were compelled to acknowledge that the 
fountains of her life were being rapidly drained. 
The roses faded from her cheeks, and her step, once 
so lithe, lost its agility. The Baron with a heavy 
heart realized that the face of his wife became more 
pinched and her features more sallow. 

A young doctor about this time came to the vil- 
lage, fresh from a German university. He was 
seeking his fortune in the New World. Stiegel 
welcomed him to the settlement with the keenest 


140 


BARON STIEGEE. 


joy ; because he looked upon him as a messenger 
from God, sent in the hour of his wife’s sorest 
need. At the close of a pleasant day in February, 
the doctor was hastily summoned to the Huber 
mansion. He anticipated a night of suffering for 
the young wife, but he was not prepared for all the 
complications which met him. As the night of 
suffering slowly wore away, he began to realize 
that if the life of Mrs. Stiegel was spared, it must 
be with help of others. A messenger was hastily 
despatched to Lancaster for the best doctor in the 
city. This man was in no way the superior of the 
younger doctor, but, when such grave responsibili- 
ties are thrust upon one, it is no confession of weak- 
ness to seek for counsel and help from others. Be- 
fore the morning came, the other doctor had arrived 
upon a horse flecked with foam and panting for 
breath. 

With the help of both physicians the lowering 
day became constantly darker and more dreadful. 
It ended as Elizabeth’s friends feared it would. 
During all these hours, Baron Stiegel’s heart was 
wrung as by an iron hand. The suffering of his 
young wife gave him keenest agony, even before 
he surmised that the day’s anguish might end in 
the night of death. When the full truth dawned 
upon him, and he saw the eyes film in death, Stie- 


A BROKEN HEART. 


141 

gel would have given everything he possessed, ex- 
cept his hope for a glorious immortality, to have 
died at the side of his wife, but He who promised 
to be with His own when they pass through the 
waters, and through the rivers of sorrows so that 
their surging floods do not overwhelm, did not see 
fit to accord him this boon. Death had laid his 
hand upon the holiest affections of his soul, and, as 
the unskilled harper might ruthlessly snatch the 
strings of his instrument from their fastenings and 
thus forever still their music, had paralyzed them 
in its awful grasp. Stiegel was heart-broken, and 
neither the years of success nor of trial could heal or 
even mollify the gaping wound. 

There was another sorrower in the household, 
whose agony in any measure approached that of 
Stiegel. That mourner was the mother of Eliza- 
beth. We have ever scarcely alluded to her in all 
these pages, but the mother of Elizabeth was a woman 
of sterling worth. The rose of Elizabeth’s richest 
being revealed in its central fold the depths and 
beauty of the mother. The fount of her deep, 
strong love flowed on during all the years of Eliza- 
beth’s maidenhood, and, when she became the wife 
of Stiegel, that fount of love still flowed in its 
clearer and deeper stream. We cannot portray the 
agony she felt at the early departure of her daughter ; 


142 


BARON STIEGEE. 


but, like every true Christian, she looked beyond 
this vale of tears for a glorious and enduring re- 
union. The father’s sorrow, though keen, was quiet. 
He went from the death-bed of his daughter as one 
who in a single night had lost all earthly good. For 
the first time in the more than fifty years of his life 
his head was bowed, and the bright, calm look of 
his eye quenched in tears. But why should we 
dwell upon this sad scene by describing at length 
the agony of each loving heart ? Is it not because 
the sorrow for our dead is the only sorrow from 
which we refuse to be divorced ? Our sorrow for 
our dead becomes a part of our being, just as the 
grain of sand after awhile in the oyster becomes a 
costly pearl, from which the oyster cannot be 
divorced without giving its own life. Just as the 
cloud which has hung darkly upon the horizon all 
the day is transformed into a chariot of glory upon 
which the sun sinks to rest, so, as the time for our 
own departure draws nigh, our sorrow for the dead 
is all dissolved in the hope of a speedy reunion. 

Four days after death struck the fatal knell which 
plunged the whole Huber house into sorrow, all 
the village assembled to pay their last respects to 
one who had been so universally beloved. At the 
hour for the departure to the place of burial, tender 
hands took the wreath of roses which had adorned 


A BROKEN HEART. 


H3 

the brow of Elizabeth on her wedding day, from 
its place in the cedar chest, and laid it on the breast 
of the shrouded tenement of clay which had once 
been the home of her tender soul. Then the pro- 
cession started. The first pastor of the Brickerville 
Church walked at the head of the procession. Next 
came four young women clad in white, who after 
a short walk relieved four other young women 
similarily dressed, who had meanwhile borne the 
corpse. Behind them walked the Baron, alone and 
unsupported. After him came the parents of Eliz- 
abeth, and all in the employ of Stiegel & Huber. 
Others followed in groups. 

We will not dwell upon the solemn services held in 
the little church in which Elizabeth had so often 
worshiped, and in whose spiritual and temporal wel- 
fare she had been so deeply interested. We will 
not tell, what the reader can well imagine, of the 
grief that filled the hearts of that entire congrega- 
tion, the largest which had ever gathered in the 
church. She had been a favorite in all the village. 
She had welcomed nearly every family then living 
in the town, upon their first arrival. She had 
rocked the cradle of every babe born in the settle- 
ment. She had soothed many an aching heart 
with her little kindnesses, and had thus enabled 
them to forget their homesicknesses. 


144 


BARON STIEGEE. 


After the funeral of Mrs. Stiegel, it was some 
time before the Baron could persuade himself that 
this earthly life would ever again hold charms for 
him. He felt as does the captain of some great 
ship, where toil is lightened by the best of society, 
the sweetest music, and the best assistance, feels 
when his ship is wrecked, and he finds himself with 
a remnant of his crew, in an open life-boat, on the 
bosom of the mighty deep, with only compass and 
chart. The voyage itself, in such a craft, can give 
him neither cheer nor comfort. Only the hope of 
meeting dear ones on the shores toward which 
wind and wave are bearing him all too slow makes 
the journey at all endurable. 

A heart so young as Stiegel’s we would naturally 
expect to heal, a life so full of promise as his, we 
would naturally expect to recover all its cheer as 
the changing days brought new experiences and his 
talents and wealth made new conquests ; but this 
great sorrow which had come upon his life he could 
never forget, even in its busiest hours and his best 
achievements. At first he often prayed to be relieved 
by death, but he began to realize that this, in the 
sight of his heavenly Father, must be a great sin. 
Did he not in his very prayers chide that Father for 
thus depriving him of his loved one ? After all, was 
it not best that she should be taken to the angels ? 


A BROKEN HEART. 


H5 


A being so pure and tender, he argued, was too good 
for the trials and heartaches of this life. Finally, 
he resolved to take up again the threads of life and 
weave anew the warp and woof of his earthly des- 
tiny ; but resolve as he might, all who knew him saw 
that the head of the arrow still lay near his heart, 
although the shaft itself had been plucked. The 
wound itself which the shaft had made, the clumsy 
hand of time could not heal, although she tried 
hard to apply her most soothing lotions. 

Stiegel now plunged into his work with an ardor 
such as he had not known when the hope of domes- 
tic felicity and the consciousness of making others 
happy by his successes had nerved him. Not even 
during the short period of his married life did he 
dream of such a colossal fortune as he now tried to 
amass in the midst of his feverish activity. We have 
already referred to the rarity of stoves in the homes 
of the first settlers. We have seen how Huber was 
the first to manufacture what are now the old-fash- 
ioned, disused ten-plate stoves. Among the early 
denizens of the little clearings even these stoves 
were unknown to their homes. They burned more 
fuel to make tolerable the one room of their log- 
houses, with their one door and one window, than 
is now used in heating half a dozen mansions. We 
to-day dream a great deal about the cheer, solid 
10 


146 


BARON STIEGEL. 


comfort, and poetry even, of those great open fire- 
places with their roaring log-fires, around which our 
great-grandfathers sat telling stories, but by far the 
greatest pleasure these open fire-places with their 
best and most poetic log-fires ever gave is in the 
imagining of them and not in their real presence. 
It was only in frequent turning away from and 
toward the fire that the face was kept from burning 
and the back from freezing. 

Baron Stiegel, after the death of his wife, began 
the manufacture of the old ten-plate stoves. In 
memory of his beloved dead, the foundry in which 
these stoves were cast was called Elizabeth. Above 
the gate on the side of the stove was the name H. 
W. Stiegel, and beneath the gate the inscription, 
“ Elizabeth Furnace.” Over the gate in front, 
through which the fuel was passed into the stove, 
there was a raised impression resembling the stone 
mansion in which Stiegel lived with his wife dur- 
ing their brief married life, and in which he spent 
the happiest and the saddest moments of all his 
earthly career. Thus Stiegel commemorated his 
beloved wife in every cottage whose owners made 
any pretense to comfort or luxury. No woman’s 
death and no mortal’s bereavement was as often re- 
hearsed as was the death of Elizabeth and the early 
bereavement of Stiegel ; for every stranger who 


A BROKEN HEART. 


147 


came into a family possessing one of the ten-plate 
stoves was naturally attracted by the stove, as well 
as by the name and the picture it bore. The result 
was that there were as many accounts of Stiegel 
and his wife as there were owners of stoves, since 
each possessor of a Stiegel stove surrounded the 
inscription on his stove with his own coloring, which 
depended upon the strength of his own imagination 
quite as much as upon the facts themselves. These 
stoves are now treasured heirlooms, but wherever 
found the inscriptions form the clew by means of 
which even the uninformed may trace the evidences 
of a wounded heart. 

With Stiegel’s application to business came ever- 
increasing wealth. His losses in those days were 
few, his gains many. His stoves, more than any- 
thing he manufactured, acted like a magic wand in 
transforming iron into gold. The busy ring of 
hammer and anvil, the roaring fires from foundry 
and forge, heralded and illuminated the path of 
progress. With Stiegel’s prosperity came wealth to 
all around him. The forest solitudes were trans- 
formed into fields of waving grain and orchards of 
luscious fruits. His baronial possessions were grad- 
ually extended until they included not only thou- 
sands of acres of land surrounding the original 
Huber tract, but many acres, miles away. 


148 


BARON STIEGEL. 


One day as the Baron sat in his office, pensively 
gazing toward the west through his open window 
at the sun as it set in amber and gold, Mr. Huber 
came into the room. He was no longer the Herr 
Huber we first saw in the stone mansion, when he 
introduced his charming Elizabeth to the Baron. 
His shoulders were now stooped, his hands were 
emaciated, and large black veins were very promi- 
nent beneath the milky-white skin. His step had 
lost its agility and his voice its music. 

He seemed more serious than usual this evening. 
It did not take long before he disclosed his errand 
to the Baron. He told him that he had that very 
day resolved with his wife to leave all that he 
owned in America and go back to the Fatherland, 
which he had left more than twenty years before. 
His aged father, the last of his family, had departed 
this life, as Stiegel knew, and it was important that 
he should at once return. He did not know that 
he would ever return to America. 

Stiegel made no reply, but kept his eyes intently 
fixed on a spot in the floor. At last he said : “ The 
Eord’s will be done. You and yours have brought 
me the only real happiness my life has ever known 
outside of that supernal joy which came to me when, 
in the forests yonder, I yielded myself to God. So, 
too, as you know, we have both in this house had 


A BROKEN HEART. 


149 


the greatest sorrow that can ever come to us ; but 
we will not unman each other. I am unwilling 
that you should sacrifice anything. If you do not 
sell your interest in this property, I will manage for 
both as God will give me the talents.” 

To this Huber replied that he thought best that 
he should sell his interest in the property. After 
some conversation a price was named by Huber, 
and, after some questions as to the payment, Stiegel 
accepted his terms. 

The elder of the men said : “I know that if my 
daughter’s preceptress in the providence of God 
ever returns to this house, you will receive her 
as a sister. Your anxiety for her safety, and your 
efforts for the solution of the mystery surrounding 
her abduction or death, convince me that she will 
always find in you a friend, if she is not beyond all 
human help, or the need of it.” 

It needs no language on the part of the writer of 
this narrative to assure the reader that Stiegel read- 
ily gave his promise to open his house to the 
woman at any time, and do all in his power for her 
comfort, should he ever have the opportunity to 
make the effort. So the men parted that evening. 
When the business of a life-time must be closed, 
time and patience are required. It was therefore 
spring before the two, Huber and his wife, were 


BARON STIEGER. 


150 

ready to bid a last adieu to Stiegel and those with 
whom they had been almost constantly associated in 
the years of their residence in America. During 
the busy days of the husband’s preparation for the 
departure, Mrs. Huber sat almost constantly in the 
warm sunlight near her daughter’s grave. She had 
planted some of the most choice roses at the head of 
the tomb. Whatever may be said of the costly 
monument upon which are carved the opinions of 
our friends concerning us, it is certain that to the 
visitor at the tomb the breath of flowers is far more 
agreeable. Then, too, the very presence of flowers 
brings a message from the tomb in which sleep the 
ashes of our loved ones. They speak of life and 
love, whilst their perfume is as snatches of heaven’s 
music wafted to earth. It is no wonder, therefore, 
that Mrs. Huber adorned well and tastily the lowly 
mound of her heart’s tenderest love. 

A few days before the departure of the Hubers, 
the people of the village gathered one evening in 
the stone mansion, and, after singing the same 
old hymns which they used to sing in the Father- 
land, they united in fervent prayer for God’s bless- 
ing and guidance during all the remaining life of 
the Hubers. You will admit, kind reader, that 
this way of spending some of the last hours with 
their old friend and employer was far better than 


A BROKEN HEART. 151 

the debauch which often precedes the farewells of 
the worldly devotee to his appetite. 

It is true that we love only partially until we 
know thoroughly. Constant association between 
Huber and Stiegel had revealed to each other their 
weaknesses, but it had also disclosed their strength. 
Their parting, therefore, was all the more tender, 
because they knew each other so well, and their 
friendship had severest virtue and saddest bereave- 
ment to cement it into life-long endurance. They 
promised one another that they would look into 
each other’s faces again, no providence preventing. 

Stiegel returned to the mansion from Philadel- 
phia, whither he had gone to see his friends off, 
feeling more lonely and heart-broken than at any 
time since the death of his wife. His work alone 
gave him rest. Of him it was pre-eminently true, 
now, that he enjoyed himself best at his work. 
The hum of busy toil made him eager to join in 
the work, and the noise of forge and furnace was 
the only sedative that would soothe the aching 
of his heart. 


CHAPTER XV. 


IN CAPTIVITY. 

“I may never see my home and those dear to 
my heart, but that will never cause me to do what 
I know will bring me no happiness, but sorrow 
and remorse instead.” 

So said a woman about thirty-five years of age. 
There was an expression of sadness in her pale 
features. Her whole form was stooped and emaci- 
ated, her features were browned by the days and 
nights of exposure, and her entire bearing and ap- 
pearance was such as to provoke pity in the heart 
of anyone who would chance to see her, without 
knowing one word of her sad history. 

It may be true that the soul is its own place and can 
make a heaven out of hell, but it is also true that 
separation from friends and every pleasant associa- 
tion, and the constant beholding of deeds of savage 
cruelty, can bring sadness and woe to the most trust- 
ing and obedient child of God. Such was the exper- 
ience of the woman who uttered the language to 
which we have just listened. For more than a year 


IN CAPTIVITY. 153 

she had dwelt in the solitudes of the forest. It is 
true that the mountain streams gurgling forth from 
rocky dells had slaked her feverish thirst, the wind 
sweeping the tops of the monarchs of the woods had 
given forth the deep-toned music of the forest, as 
when some master-hand sweeps the keys of some 
great organ. She had made her bed upon soft furs 
spread on moss soft as down. Though far re- 
moved from the charms and delights of civilization, 
she could have been happy in her forest solitudes 
had it not been that she was a captive in savage 
hands. You have seen a cat toying with a captive 
mouse. She allowed it to cautiously and slowly 
creep away from her cruel claws, and just when it 
began to quicken its pace, and the hope of freedom 
began to nerve it to flight, those cruel paws clawed 
it back to the spot from whence it had crept. 
Such was the experience of this captive female. 
Again and again she had assumed an air of con- 
tentment, and her watchful captors accorded her 
more liberty, but with every effort at escape she 
was brought back and bound to a tree for days, 
until she meekly promised to remain where she 
was. She was not the only captive. There were 
several girls in the same village whom she met in 
the long journey from the east toward the banks of 
the Ohio. They, too, had been dragged from their 


i54 


BARON STIEGER. 


homes, after the savages had cruelly murdered the 
father. Their mother, as far as they knew, was still 
alive, for she, fortunately, was not at home when 
the attack was made upon the home and the father 
killed, the stock butchered, and the farm buildings 
laid in ashes. These girls were younger than our 
heroine, and gradually adapted themselves to their 
surroundings. The wild life with which they were 
surrounded began to have a charm for them. It 
was the presence of these young women that en- 
abled the other captive to bear her lot. 

There was still another white face which fre- 
quently came and looked into that of our heroine. 
Sometimes it was weary weeks before that face 
came out from the solitudes of the forest ; and 
though the woman began to dread its appearance 
almost as much as it inspired her hope, yet still she 
hovered between hope and fear at its every coming. 
The face was that of an Indian trader, who, at the 
time of her captivity, joined his lot with the mur- 
derous Indian braves, simply because he was more 
abandoned than the savages to whom he sold him- 
self, soul and body, if it can be said that a man so 
depraved as he really had a soul. She had met 
him in the company of the Indians first on the 
banks of the Susquehanna, the second day after her 
captivity. He was leader and guide among the 


IN CAPTIVITY. 


155 


savages then. When she had become so exhausted 
from lack of proper nourishment and the awful 
journey, that she felt that she could go no further, 
one of the savages had raised his tomahawk to 
dispatch her, but this man restrained him from 
adding one more murder to his long and horrible 
list. All through that long and trying journey, he 
had shown himself exceedingly interested in her 
welfare. Finally she began to look upon him as an 
angel of mercy sent to comfort her and to press the 
strengthening cup to her suffering lips. After the 
band of Indians reached their own hunting grounds 
on the banks of the Ohio River, he bade her adieu, 
saying that he was now about to become an Indian 
trader, and as such he must go and purchase the 
articles of trade most attractive to his customers. 
He explained that he had been in the employ of 
the French Government. He joined the Indians 
on their raid to Pennsylvania more that he might, 
in some degree, mitigate the sufferings of the white 
captives than to gratify his own love of adventure. 
After he had been gone more than two weeks he came 
again, having in his employ several Indians, who 
were loaded with powder and ball and firearms, to- 
gether with attractive trinkets, which he exchanged 
for furs with the savages who held her captive. 

During his stay he was in frequent conversation 


BARON STIEGEE. 


156 

with the captive. In fact, his barter was concluded 
in a few hours, but he tarried until the next day, 
solely, as he said, to try to effect some way of escape 
for the woman. Although the savages were some- 
what suspicious, they accorded him the liberty of 
a long interview during the evening. He now 
plainly told the woman that if he succeeded in 
effecting her escape, it must be on the condition 
that she would consent to marry him. Although 
the woman had learned to look upon his repulsive 
face with trust, she could not decide to become his 
wife at the price of her liberty. She said to him 
that first night when he held out the priceless boon 
of freedom : “Far away there in the settlement 
bathed in sunshine are my friends and the dearest as- 
sociations of my life. If I cannot reach them except 
by becoming your wife, I can still dream of them, 
believe in them, and look up to the dear Father, 
who has permitted me to be brought here. I can- 
not become your wife even for so great a boon as 
liberty and the reunion with my dear ones.” 

Say what he would, the man could not dissuade 
her from her resolve, and so when the sunlight 
again kissed the tree-tops, and pierced in long 
silvery pencils the deep shadows, she was again 
alone with two helpless white girls, in the midst 
of savages. At the time she uttered the words at 


IN CAPTIVITY. 


157 


the beginning of this chapter he had been to the 
Indian village half a dozen times, and at each visit 
he had renewed his suit, but always with the same 
result. This time he was more urgent, and threw 
off the pretended cloak of virtue and love and 
stood before her the bold, bad, freebooter he really 
always had been. He told her that she was wholly 
in his power. A word to the chief, and she would 
be roasted alive. On the other hand, if she be- 
came his bride, she could return to her friends on 
a protracted visit. He himself would accompany 
her, for he had done nothing anywhere to make 
him an outlaw. It was then that she said, “ I may 
never see my home again and those dear to my 
heart, but that will not cause me to do what I know 
will bring me no happiness, but only sorrow and 
remorse instead.” 

They parted by his telling her that the time had 
now come when she must think better of her op- 
portunities, or she would bring upon her head the 
doom she deserved. He said he would give her 
until he came again, then he would either lead her 
away his bride or he would leave her a corpse. 
She replied by saying in the words of her Master, 
“ I fear not them which kill the body, but I fear 
him who has power to destroy both soul and body 
in hell.” 


BARON STIEGEE. 


158 

By this time our readers will have concluded 
that this woman held captive in the depth of the 
forest is none other than the preceptress with whom 
we became acquainted when Stiegel made his first 
visit at the Huber home. We have already seen 
how she and a companion went out to gather nuts 
in the autumn forest, a few days after the Indians 
had committed their depredations in the settlements 
adjacent. The two wandered further from the edge 
of the clearing than they knew. They went to a 
row of shellbark trees, which the preceptress’ friend 
said was not far from the road leading to the vil- 
lage. They were there only a short time when 
they were seized from behind. A big hand was 
thrust over their mouths, and after being blind- 
folded they were dragged into the forest. After 
they had been hurried along for some time the 
bandages were removed from their eyes, and they 
found themselves in the midst of a company of 
painted savages. They believed that their cap- 
ture had been effected by white men, from the 
way it was done. We may learn more about it, 
but for the present we can only know that they 
were soon joined by other savages and prisoners, 
none of whom the preceptress or her companion 
knew. 

As the journey proceeded they came to the banks 


IN CAPTIVITY. 


159 


of the Susquehanna, which was crossed the same 
night that they were captured. That night her 
companion, overcome by fatigue, could go no fur- 
ther. She was killed with a tomahawk and scalped 
by one of the big savages. That night the tender- 
hearted women saw what nearly froze their vitals 
with horror. Several of the little children among 
the captives were killed in plain sight of their 
mothers, and their tender bodies pierced by a num- 
ber of sharpened pine sticks. After their bodies 
were thus pierced in many places they were roasted 
and eaten by the savages. 

In all the annals of savage cruelty there are no 
more revolting and heart-rending records than those 
of the French and Indian War. What is so sadden- 
ing is the fact that the savages were encouraged 
and actually paid for their butcheries by a nation 
which claimed to be the most refined and enlight- 
ened among the nations of the earth. If anything 
can possibly equal in cruelty and atrocity the sav- 
age butchery in the war referred to, it is the car- 
nival of horrors in which the Indians reveled a few 
years afterward, when they were in the hire of the 
“ Mother Country.” War is cruel at all times, but 
when it is waged by a people like the American 
Indians, to whom it was the only avenue to glory, 
and to whom the most horrid butcheries were 


i6o 


BARON STIEGEE. 


looked upon as deeds of bravery, it become a ver- 
itable hell. 

The shouts of victory and the echo of the war 
dances have died away from the eastern shores of our 
great land. The thick arrows and the deadly tom- 
ahawk no longer whistle through our forests. The 
last feeble remnants of their race are fed on our gov- 
ernment’s bounty. At the closing years of their 
history we are making a strong effort to prove to our- 
selves and to the world that they deserve a name 
and a place among the races of the earth, but, what- 
ever may be the results of this effort, their long 
career of savage warfare and horrid butchery can 
never be effaced from the pages of American history. 

We must leave the fate of our heroine in the 
hands of the pale-faced and white-livered man whom 
she has rejected even at so great a price as her own 
freedom from her savage captors, and the risk of her 
life. However much we may deplore her captivity, 
let us remember that there is no bondage, save the 
bondage of an evil habit, that will not yield both 
sweetness and strength to the one whose life is hid 
with Christ in God. Such a life, wherever its 
changing lot be cast, will prove a source of blessing 
to all with whom it comes in contact. God in His 
wisdom has sent some lives to the stake in order 
that other lives might be illumined ; He has laid 


IN CAPTIVITY. 


161 


heavy crosses upon the shoulders of some in order 
that the burdens of others may be lightened ; but 
with every stake and every cross has gone the up- 
holding arm of His grace. 

ii 


CHAPTER XVI. 


MANHEIM. 

Some people make it the aim and the end of their 
life to become rich. To accomplish this they sac- 
rifice first their ease, and, when they are once thor- 
oughly given to the passion for money-getting, they 
sacrifice every noble impulse of the soul to this one 
end. Although Stiegel was a thorough business 
man, he was not the servant of his wealth, even 
though for most of his time his business was his 
master. His home at Elizabeth Furnaces was ele- 
gant and even luxurious. He had many house- 
hold servants to do his bidding. The finest horses 
that could be procured were to be found in his 
stables. These horses were cared for by men who 
knew and appreciated horses. Yet with all these 
comforts and luxuries Stiegel was conscious that 
the light of his life had gone out. It is true at 
times the surface of his life sparkled as it reflected 
the sunshine into another heart, but deep down in 
his being there was no light, no cheer, except that 


MANHEIM. 163 

which was born of the Spirit, and which waits to 
burst forth in its effulgence on another shore. 

In those days Stiegel’s capital rapidly accumulated. 
He owned thousands of acres of land in Lancaster, 
Lebanon, and Berks Counties. There was one tract 
of land with which Stiegel became, we might almost 
say, enamored. This beautiful stretch of country 
can be best seen from the highest summit of the 
Conewago Hills. Though the mighty forests which 
once covered almost the entire valley have long 
since yielded to the woodman’s axe, and the quiet of 
forest has given away to the busy hum of countless 
industries in the towns and villages which now dot 
the landscape, the scene is still beautiful. Perhaps 
the most fertile part of this valley lies just at the 
edge of the western hills that are broken finally into 
numerous spurs and humps along the picturesque 
Susquehanna. This spot Stiegel chose for the lay- 
ing out of a town which, in memory of his own 
birthplace, he called Manheim. He laid out the 
prospective town into perfect squares. 

It was not long before buildings began to be 
placed in conformity with Stiegel’s plan ; but by 
far the buildings of most importance were those 
erected by the Baron himself. Of these his own 
mansion and the glass factory were the most im- 
posing structures. The first of these was forty feet 


164 


BARON STIEGEE. 


square. It was built of red brick, which had been 
hauled all the way from Philadelphia. The con- 
struction of the building was peculiar. It was two- 
story, and each floor was divided by halls into three 
large rooms. The second floor had a chapel cover- 
ing the whole of the southern half of the building. 
The walls were adorned with texts from the Bible 
or covered with Scripture scenes. 

The other building of note in the town in those 
days was Stiegel’s glass factory. This was a dome- 
like structure, built of brick, and was large enough 
to permit the entrance of a coach drawn by six 
horses. Not only could the coach and .six disap- 
pear, but actually turn around in the building. 
The glass manufactured in the Baron’s works was 
of the very best. Richly colored bowls and goblets 
possessing the clear, resonant ring found in Bohe- 
mian glass of to-day are still to be seen in Manheim 
in a few homes. This factory supplied the homes 
of the land with glassware unexcelled anywhere in 
Europe. Before this factory was established at 
Manheim glass goblets and dishes were possessed 
only by the rich who could afford to import them. 

About the same time that Manheim was assuming 
the dimensions of a sprightly town, the Baron con- 
structed another building of note at Schaefferstown, 
a place about a dozen miles from Manheim. It 


MANHEIM. 


165 

was known as “The Castle,” and consisted of a huge 
tower, pyramidal in shape, being fifty feet square at 
the base, from which it gradually sloped toward the 
top, where it was ten feet square. Only a few 
years ago the great logs which once composed 
“ The Castle ” could still be seen in some of the 
buildings in the village of Schaefferstown. It is 
needless to say that this building was visited from 
far and near by men, women, and children, for 
there was nothing like it elsewhere on the Amer- 
ican continent. 

Stiegel spent his time at one or another of the 
three places of which we have been speaking. His 
departure from anyone of these was heralded by the 
discharge of a cannon. The report was heard 
across the hills, and in this way the next place made 
ready to receive him. When the cannon was dis- 
charged at Cannon Hill, as the place above Eliza- 
beth Furnace was known, the workmen in the 
glass factory at Manheim laid aside their tools and 
went to their homes and put on holiday attire. A 
band assembled itself upon the flat roof of the man- 
sion, and as soon as his retinue appeared they 
played the airs most pleasing to the Baron. When 
he arrived a feast was prepared or was ready, and 
he and all his workmen sat down to the table. 

He was always accompanied by a pack of hounds, 


i66 


BARON STIEGEE. 


a number of mounted guards, and a coach bearing 
him and his friends. When he traveled without his 
friends he often rode on horseback. This manner 
of traveling would be considered very strange in 
our day, and the reader may think it pedantic and 
quite too expensive and regal, even for a man who 
had abundant means ; but it must be remembered 
that Steigel nearly always carried large sums of 
money as he went from one place to another where 
he had employees, who awaited his arrival for the 
wages due them. In those days there was not the 
protection for the traveler there is to-day. Even 
now the man who transports large sums of money 
from one country town to another takes great risk, 
especially when it is known that he is thus bur- 
dened. 

With the Baron horses and dogs were great 
favorites. With the beauty and friendship of these 
he tried to satiate his famishing heart. Nor dare 
anyone say that they were unworthy his admiration 
and even love. Who ever heard of a dog kindly 
treated by his master that deserted him in the hour 
of need ? Who ever heard of a dog voluntarily be- 
traying his master ? But those who are created in 
God’s image have proven untrue to those for whom 
they should have been willing to die. 

Though the Baron was rich in those days and 


MANHEIM. 


167 

bore himself regally whithersoever he went, no hand 
was ever extended for charity toward him without 
meeting a ready response. His workmen shared 
his good things whenever he visited them. Among 
them strikes were unknown. He never denied 
them charity when they needed it, but he also gave 
them justice, which was far better, and which in our 
day is so often denied our inferiors. Men now grow 
rich upon the very life-blood of the masses and 
“for a pretense make long prayers,” or endow an 
orphanage or found a university. All their charity 
cannot cloak the baseness of their nature in the 
sight of thinking men and an all-seeing God. 

The mansion at Manheim bore testimony to his 
deep religious nature years after Baron Stiegel had 
left it forever. The Scripture texts and the illus- 
trations upon the ceilings and walls all testified to 
his piety. But more than all else were the constant 
religious meetings on the Sabbath, in the chapel, 
where the Baron himself broke the Bread of Life to 
his workmen. It is said that he constantly officiated 
in this chapel on the Lord’s day whenever he was 
in Manheim. His daily life was above reproach, and 
so his doctrine on the Sabbath was all the more 
precious to them that heard. Lord Chesterfield has 
truthfully said, “ A man’s own good breeding is the 
best security against other people’s ill manners.” 


i68 


BARON STlEGEE. 


So far as we can learn no workman ever illy treated 
Stiegel, because his wealth, his position, his doctrine, 
and his great-heartedness proclaimed him a man. 

It was about this time that he deeded the plot of 
ground to the Lutheran congregation at Manheim, 
upon which the present coz) r and churchly edi- 
fice stands. At each of the places, Brickerville, 
Schaefferstown, and Manheim, the Lutheran congre- 
gations received substantial evidences of his love 
for the Church in which he was born and in whose 
fold he had always worshiped. 

So the days of StiegePs life wore away. They 
brought him many opportunities for doing good, 
opportunities which he improved and which were 
fraught with consequences so serious that heaven 
alone could estimate them. The historian’s pen 
has not recorded them, but He who marks the 
eagle in his flight and the sparrow in its fall re- 
corded them in the book of His everlasting remem- 
brance. So your life and mine pass away, kind 
reader, and so there come with each day responsi- 
bilities and duties, which, if improved, will make 
for us an abiding character. Our capabilities may 
not be so great as were StiegePs, at this time, nor 
may we be able to serve those around us as mate- 
rially as he did ; but in the sight of God our work 
may be just as acceptable when it is done in the 


MANHEIM. 


169 


right spirit. That man is fortunate not when his 
conditions are easy, but when they call forth the 
best that is in him. That man is sure to serve his 
day, clear his own vision, and kindle his own en- 
thusiasm who does his work in the fear of God and 
for the good of his neighbor. 

In those days Stiegel seldom heard from his 
friends across the Atlantic. Herr Huber and his 
wife were living in retirement, in the old home- 
stead where several generations had resided before 
them, and so old scenes and old friends served to 
mellow the hard blow they had received when their 
only daughter was carried to an early grave. 

Of course they had not forgotten Stiegel, but they 
no longer took the interest in the world they once 
did. It was, therefore, no surprise that the Baron 
did not often hear from them. One evening, how- 
ever, after he had not received a single note from 
them for several months, there was a letter in the 
mail which bore the postmark of the town in 
which Huber resided. The address was in a 
strange hand, and the Baron felt that it contained 
unwelcome news, before he broke the seal. He 
was not mistaken. The note was a brief one, stat- 
ing that Herr Huber had been carried to his last 
resting-place the day before, and that his wife had 
preceded him by only a few days. 


170 


BARON STIEGEE. 


So had come the end — the end of their earthly 
ambitions, which years before had already shrunken 
to tiny skeletons ; the end of their griefs, for they 
were both ripe for that land where there is neither 
sorrow nor crying ; the end of their hopes, for they 
were now where there is blessed realization of every 
Christian hope ; and so, although they had reached 
the end of all things earthly, they had reached 
the beginning of all things heavenly, and, there- 
fore, had just entered upon real life. 

The epitaph written by a great-souled author for 
two other lives might have well become theirs : 

“ They did the duty that they saw ; 

Both wrought at God’s supreme designs, 

And under love’s eternal law, 

Each life with equal beauty shines.” 

We will not endeavor to enter upon the feelings 
of Stiegel as he read and re-read the short missive 
containing such important news. He felt, we 
know, kind reader, as you and I have felt, when a 
life that was to ours what the jewel is to the ring 
that it ennobles and embellishes, it suddenly goes 
out from our presence into the boundless future. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


FRIENDS. 

No human pen has recorded or ever will record 
the suffering of the early colonists in America. 
Very many of the heartaches, and trials, and mur- 
ders were the result of savage inhumanity ; but it 
must be remembered that the savages were not 
wholly responsible for the dreadful warfare they 
waged with relentless vigor for more than two cen- 
turies. In nearly every instance they were urged 
to their deeds of blood by one or the other nations 
of Europe, who hoped, through their assistance, to 
make themselves masters of the North American 
Continent. When the French dreamed of establish- 
ing a vast empire in the Mississippi Valley, they 
incurred the enmity of the English, and a war was 
the result, into which the colonists of both nations 
were dragged as the inevitable consequence. In 
that war some of the richest blood of both nations 
was spilled on American soil. During those years 
from 1758 to 1763, the Indians, goaded by the 
French, committed some of the most revolting 

{17 1 ) 


172 


BARON STIEGEL. 


crimes against humanity in all the annals of savage 
warfare. Nor did peace come to the settlers in the 
western part of Pennsylvania until the summer of 
1766, when the representatives of the leading In- 
dian tribes met Sir William Johnson at Oswego 
and signed a treaty of peace. 

We call attention to this date not only because it 
marked the close of an epoch in Indian warfare 
with the whites, but because one of the characters 
of this story succeeded in escaping from the cruel 
clutches of savagery. 

When the Indian trader left the preceptress of 
Elizabeth in the Indian village, he told her that at 
his next visit she must choose between liberty or 
death. But she well knew that the liberty he 
offered her was but the beginning of a more dreaded 
slavery, so she wisely choose to remain a captive, at 
least until he should come again. Many years ago 
a wise Roman Emperor said : “ Eet no future 
things disturb thee, for thou wilt come to them if it 
shall be necessary, having with thee the same reason 
which thou now usest for present things ” (Marcus 
Aurelius). Our heroine, who, from this time, shall 
be known as Nawadaha, “ the singer,” as the In- 
dians call her, had learned to live but one day at a 
time during the six weary years of her captivity. 

Often when the sun shone high above the tree- 


FRIENDS. 


173 


tops and the papooses were left to roll and tumble 
on the green moss at the foot of the giant oaks our 
heroine sang to them, softly, the good old German 
hymns which she had learned in the great Cathedral 
in her distant German home, when she little dreamed 
that some day her loving soul would be shut up to 
itself and its God in the deep recesses of the Ameri- 
can forest. In those moments of quiet song, when 
eyes were closed, her longing soul went out on the 
wings of song beyond the forest, to the settlement, 
where, with Elizabeth, she had begun a new epoch in 
her life ; and then, like an unwearied bird, she soared 
in memory over the long sunny days of her first 
love, until entranced by the memories she fell into 
quiet slumber, there to continue in her dreams 
what she had begun on the wings of her song. 
Just as the lark, soaring high above the green 
meadows, warbling in sweetest strains, may suddenly 
feel itself pierced by the shot from the hunter’s 
cruel rifle and flutter dying to the earth, so Na- 
wadaha’s song was often stayed by the flood of 
tender memories, and her spirit fluttered back to its 
captivity in the depth of the forest. But her song 
which yielded her such solemn joy had a soothing 
effect upon the hearts of the savage warriors, who, 
often while she sang, unconscious of their presence, 
gathered about her, silently listening to her 


m 


BARON STIEGEL. 


melody. Thus it was that she received the name 
Nawadaha. 

There was one other pleasure which was not 
denied Nawadaha ; the flowers that she had always 
loved in the settlement were found in great pro- 
fusion from early spring until the autumn frosts 
nipped their petals. With the first breath of spring, 
when the south-wind blew over the fragrant loam 
and guided her to the trailing arbutus, she literally 
dwelt among the flowers ; for, after the first year 
of her captivity, she was accorded a great deal of 
liberty. Her lodge, which, at her request, was ap- 
propriated to her sole use, was fragrant with the 
arbutus all the days of early spring. When the 
leaves were fully out upon the forest trees, she 
gathered the anemone and the daisy. She always 
felt that God’s hand was present where the flowers 
grew. They cheered her lonely life, and whispered 
to her of a beautiful land where flowers never die. 
When she twined them in her hair, and their soft 
petals touched her face, they felt to her like the 
kisses of angels who had come to whisper to her 
the goodness of God. 

There were many evidences of God’s presence 
and blessing in the weary months of her captivity. 
A very old chieftain had been dangerously ill from 
a fever which he had contracted from exposure in 


FRIENDS. 


175 


the raid in which she had been made a prisoner. 
She nursed him through his sickness, and, just as 
the lion’s savage nature is subdued by kindness so 
that he becomes gentle, so this old chieftain be- 
came the life-long friend of Nawadaha, and shel- 
tered her from the savage caresses of his braves, 
and enabled her to be a keeper, rather than a 
prisoner in the tribe. 

We cannot call attention to every detail in the 
monotonous life of Nawadaha during the whole six 
years of her life in the heart of a large village of 
savages ; but suffice to say that she learned to 
make herself useful in many ways to her captors. 
She learned their language, and taught them con- 
cerning the Great Spirit, and of Jesus Christ who 
died on the cross in order that those who believe 
on Him might live with Him forever. He who 
marks the sparrow in its fall, and who died in 
order that He might gather unto Himself a people 
from among all nations and tribes, alone knows 
how many dusky souls were led to the light 
through the gentle ministry of Nawadaha. She 
herself learned how sweet it is to live for others, 
and to do another’s will and not her own. 

We have twice spoken of the so-called trader’s 
last words to Nawadaha. They were spoken at 
the end of the first year of her captivity. Five 


176 


BARON STIEGEL. 


years had now passed away, and still he had not 
come to make good his threat. As the months wore 
on she felt that the heavenly Father must have in- 
terposed in her behalf. A year after his last visit, 
the site of the village was changed. In a large 
clearing ten miles further west, near a well-defined 
trail, the new village had been located, and Nawa- 
daha knew that he could have found the new town 
quite readily, had he sought for it. She did not 
learn what detained him. The reader will be 
made acquainted with the cause in the future pages 
of this book ; for the present he must be content 
to know that his failing to return made Nawadaha 
extremely happy. 

There is no condition in this life from which 
there is no ultimate deliverance. It is true, he who 
will not learn may remain ignorant through all his 
earthly life, and be at a disadvantage in acquiring 
knowledge in the life to come ; and so there are 
other conditions from which there is no deliver- 
ance even at death, but all the sorrows and trials 
of life for the Christian can continue, at the longest, 
only a brief time. Nawadaha realized this, and so 
with the help of her dear Master, whom she served 
most diligently in all her enslavement, she was far 
happier than the man who offered her so doubtful 
a freedom. 


FRIENDS. 


1 77 


John in his lonely exile on the Isle of Patmos 
came much nearer to Christ and heaven than he 
possibly could have come in the streets of the 
crowded city. He never would have written the 
last revelation man has received from God had he 
not been banished. So some lives draw nearer to 
God in solitude than in society. Nawadaha be- 
lieved that this was eminently true of her. She 
realized that, if she had continued in the settlement, 
she would not have been as earnest and constant 
in her prayers as she was in the lonely Indian 
village. 

Most Christians are very unlike their Master in 
this respect. Christ prayed most when the power 
of God manifested itself most abundantly in the 
casting out of evil spirits and the healing of the 
sick. Often after He had done His greatest 
miracles He withdrew “ into a desert place ” to 
commune with His heavenly Father. Very many 
Christians, when their skies are brightest and their 
days the happiest, spend very little time in prayer 
or thanksgiving. It is only when dark days of 
trial and suffering are at hand that they are most 
on their knees. It might have been so with Nawa- 
daha. As it was, she lived very near to God, and 
thus out of her “ stony griefs ” she raised veritable 

Bethels. 

12 


178 


BARON STIEGEE. 


But, we have said, for the Christian all troubles 
and all disagreeable things must come to an end. 
So it is that there came an end to Nawadaha’s 
bondage. When the treaty of peace was concluded 
between the leading Indian tribes and the English 
at Oswego, in the summer of 1766, one of the 
stipulations of that treaty was that all whites then 
held by the Indians must be set at liberty. The 
English provided that the savages furnish a safe 
escort when the different villages should be visited, 
to lead into liberty those who, some of them, had 
been detained in slavery for years. 

In the spring of 1767 there came a company of 
eight or ten whites, clad in the uniform so common 
and so popular among Indian fighters and trappers. 
It was quite natural for Nawadaha to think that 
these men were a company of traders as she saw 
them approach the head man of the village with the 
usual signs of peace and friendship. She hesitated 
whether she should plead for her freedom with 
Indians, on the one hand, and for her restoration to 
her friends by the whites, on the other. She de- 
termined, however, to learn all she could concerning 
the outside world from those who must recently 
have been in communication with civilized life. 
The salutations between the chief of the village and 
the supposed traders were scarcely exchanged be- 


FRIENDS. 179 

fore she was at their side. Nawadaha was no 
longer as youthful and fair as she was when we 
first met her in the home of Elizabeth, but she had 
that beauty of soul which is always manifest in the 
countenance, whether the brow be crowned with 
gray hair and the crow-feet of time have stealthily 
left their mark upon the face, or whether the blush 
and beauty of youth rest like a sunbeam in the 
countenance. It is true there were lines of sadness 
in her pale face, but these were broken by the 
evidences of calm resignation and love which had 
long since gained the mastery in her soul. So, 
whilst Nawadaha was not beautiful in the sense in 
which the world speaks of beauty, her counte- 
nance more than her presence attracted the atten- 
tion of the new-comers. The leader of the com- 
pany, seeing her hesitancy in addressing them, ap- 
proached her and smilingly extended his hand, at 
the same time saying in English, “I am your 
friend. I have come to lead you back to your 
friends.” 

In all her prayers and her longings for home, 
Nawadaha always had the assurance that at 
some time she would be delivered, but now when 
she felt that her deliverers stood before her, it was 
well that the strong arm of the white man stretched 
in friendly greeting was ready for the double 


BARON STlEGEL. 


180 

office of supporting her frail body which otherwise 
would have fallen tremblingly to the earth. Per- 
haps you have seen the door of a cage containing a 
captive bird suddenly thrown open, and you have 
seen the bird retreat to the furthest corner of the 
cage, and there sit down while its little body 
quivered in every fibre of its being ; if so, then you 
can appreciate the appearance, if not the feelings, 
of Nawadaha when she was so suddenly told that 
the longed-for and prayed-for deliverance had at 
last come. 

After the woman had somewhat recovered from 
the shock she was told all that we have stated else- 
where in this chapter. By this time the two other 
girls, which were Nawadaha’s companions in cap- 
tivity, returned from a trip to the more distant 
forest, whence they had gone for wood, which they 
and the Indian squaws were compelled to furnish. 
They, too, heard the news gladly, but they had 
now been so many years in captivity and had been 
brought to the forest so young that they did not 
have the distinct longings for civilization and 
friends that Nawadaha had. 

The Indians, who knew that they could not re- 
tain the captives without plunging themselves into 
a hopeless war with the tribes as well as the whites, 
reluctantly gave their permission. They, accord- 


FRIENDS. 


181 


in g to the terms of the treaty, were required to 
furnish a safe escort to the whites in their journey 
toward civilization. 

That night, as Nawadaha lay in her lodge upon 
the panther skins, she was too full of contending 
emotions to compose herself to sleep. She won- 
dered how many days it would be before she would 
look upon the settlement as she had so often fan- 
cied herself doing during the years of her captiv- 
ity. Who would be there to bid her welcome? 
Would the villagers hear of her return before her 
approach to the town itself, and would the chil- 
dren, whom she had so often nursed in their childish 
troubles, remember her, and stretch out their arms 
in glad welcome, as in the olden time ? She felt 
sure that Elizabeth would be most cordial in her 
greeting. But what if her impression that Eliza- 
beth were no more were really true ? She would 
put all those strange thoughts she had so often 
had of Elizabeth’s death from her, now that she 
was actually going home. So the night wore away 
in sleepless dreaming of her return, her dear ones, 
and her future life. She was not unmindful that 
beneath the dark skin of many an Indian child and 
mother there were warmest feelings for the Na- 
wadaha of their village. She knew that those with 
whom she had had her dwelling-place so long had 


i 82 


BARON STIEGEL. 


many of the vices of the savage, but they had their 
virtues also. Though they forgave no injury, 
they forgot no friendship. She asked herself 
again and again whether, after she had looked 
upon the faces of her white friends, she should not 
again return to the forest to guide her dusky friends 
in the way of life, the way upon which she felt 
sure some had entered? 

The next morning when the long pencils of light 
began to pierce the dark shadows of the dense 
forest, the whole village gathered about the little 
company of pale-faces as they arranged the few 
articles and conveniences for the journey. The 
three women were told that they would be com- 
pelled to walk all that day. They would then 
come upon a new broad road where they would 
meet many wagons and men. In one of the vil- 
lages on this road they would spend the night, and 
the next they would be given a place in a large 
wagon drawn by horses. On this wagon they 
would finally cross the mountains and get to the 
very river which, Nawadaha remembered, was the 
first large stream they had reached that awful day 
of her captivity. 

When the few simple preparations for the jour- 
ney were complete they began their long journey 
toward civilization. The old chieftain who had so 


FRIENDS. 


183 


often interposed himself between Nawadaha and 
danger accompanied the little party for several 
miles. Finally he stopped, and, turning to Na- 
wadaha, he said : “ Daughter of the pale-face, child 
of my heart, I leave you. In the far-away land of 
the Great Spirit I will again greet you. Your 
Saviour has become my Saviour, for you have told 
me that He died for the sins of the Redman also. 
In the home of the Great Spirit you will sing to 
me again as you used to sing when the owl mocked 
your melody in the early twilight.” 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


AN OlyD ENEMY. 

Just as the dew passes away from its grassy bed 
in the early summer morning ere the sun has 
climbed far along her burning way, so we may 
soon lose the influence of some trusted friend in the 
early days of our career and feel keenly the loss all 
our lives. Just as the dark cloud, with its mutter- 
ing thunders, may hang low at early morn and 
startle us with its threatenings all the day, so one 
malignant enemy may obtrude himself upon our 
lives again and again. 

It seemed to Stiegel that his one sworn enemy, 
who had without doubt fired the ball that came so 
near sending him to eternity, had departed from 
the vicinity of the settlement as rapidly and as 
completely as the echoes of his gun-shot. As the 
days stretched into months and years he became 
more fully convinced that Fritz had passed into an- 
other neighborhood, if not sphere, in which to 
exercise the malignity of his evil heart. In fact, it 


AN OLD ENEMY. 


185 

is a question whether Stiegel thought much about 
his one enemy during the years of his first and 
greater trial. 

We cannot tell how often Fritz planned to carry 
out the revenge, as he persuaded himself to call his 
unreasonable hatred for Stiegel, during the years in 
which he was absent from the Huber settlement. 
That he had ever resolved to forget the man he had 
sworn to hate we do not believe. It is the province 
of this chapter to describe not only the wanderings 
of Fritz, but also to show how strangely he 
changed his plans in his determination to ruin the 
man who had really never injured him. 

When Fritz left the Huber settlement, during 
Stiegel’s absence with Herr Huber, he went to 
Lancaster. There he joined a company of militia, 
who went out to meet the marauding Indians of 
whom we have said so much. On the banks of the 
Susquehanna, when the militia thought that there 
was no danger of a visit from their savage enemy, 
the soldiers resolved to visit the u Paxton Boys,” as 
the men who lived at Paxton and who were banded 
together to defend their homes were called. Fritz 
then quietly dropped out of their ranks and joined 
himself to a company of trappers, who operated 
along the Juniata. When the marauding Indians 
at length did come, he one evening boldly walked 


BARON STIEGEE. 


1 86 

into their camp, and, although at first regarded 
with suspicion, he made known in French, which 
language he had learned to speak in the Old World, 
that he was the sworn enemy of the settlers and 
the abiding friend of the savages. The fact that 
there were Indians in the band who had learned to 
speak a little French from their association with 
the French soldiers won the confidence of the 
band, and Fritz was given the opportunity to prove 
his friendship. 

It was he who led the marauders to commit their 
fiendish crimes in the vicinity of the Huber settle- 
ment. He hoped that he would be able to lead 
them against the Huber settlement ; but they were 
too wise to attempt this. When he realized that 
the savages could not be induced to rush to the 
town and hack and kill indiscriminately, he tried 
to shoot Stiegel when he and Elizabeth were out 
driving. 

When the band concluded that they must at once 
withdraw beyond the river, Fritz induced two stal- 
wart savages to hover on the edge of the forest, 
and, if possible, kill the men in the Huber home 
and capture the women ; but they were not bold 
enough to accomplish the former and succeeded in 
capturing, and that merely by chance, the preceptress 
of Elizabeth. In all the journey back to the home 


AN OL,D ENEMY. 


187 


of the savages Fritz was with the band. We will 
not say that it was owing to him that the life of 
Nawadaha was spared, for a man so thoroughly de- 
praved would have been willing to sacrifice every 
principle of humanity did the occasion demand it. 
God, who cared for her all the years of her captiv- 
ity, defended her against both her white and her 
dusky foes. 

Perhaps the reader asks, why did He not save the 
companion of Nawadaha? The answer is : “Who 
by searching, can find out God?” (Job xi. 7). 
Can the child dictate what its father shall do ? 

“ God’s plans like lilies pure and white unfold, 

We must not tear the close-shut leaves apart, 

Time will reveal the calyxes of gold.” 

He who cares for the life that hides in meadow 
and in wood, and everywhere, is not unmindful of 
the cries and suffering of His children whom He 
has made in His own image, and redeemed by His 
own blood. Instead of chiding God for leading us 
in paths unpleasant to our weary feet, let us rather 
learn obedience ; for, after all, has not Christ told us 
that he who obeys is the real master? He has 
his hand on the helm of power and in the sack of 
God’s treasures. To disobey is to rely on self, and 
that is weakness personified. “ Knowledge, will, 


1 88 


BARON STIEGEL. 


“ These twain are strong, but stronger yet the third — 
Obedience — ’tis the great tap-root that still 
Knit round the rock of duty, is not stirred 
Though heaven-loosed tempests spend their utmost 
skill.” 

When once we ask “ why,” we are at sea without 
helm or compass, but when we trust and obey we 
are in the haven of God’s loving care and tenderest 
affection. 

The fact that Fritz could speak French enabled 
him to enter the fort at Duquesne and make 
friends with those who were then in authority. He 
was too big a coward to enter the regular service of 
the French Crown, but through the influence of the 
French garrison he became a trapper, or, truer, a 
freebooter. He sold at an enormous profit powder 
and ball and cloths and trinkets, whiskies and 
brandies. He cared not how many helpless women 
and children the Indians might murder, nor how 
much he inflamed their passions and brutalized 
their savage nature by means of the “fire-water ” 
he sold them. We cannot speak too highly of the 
spirit of commerce which had characterized the 
colonists from a very early period of their history, 
but we cannot fail to lament and deprecate the self- 
ish and self-interested turn of mind which at the 
cost of public honor and personal self-respect sub- 


AN OLD ENEMY. 


189 


ordinated everything to the mighty dollar and im- 
planted into the young heart of our nation the pre- 
dominant idea that wealth is the main constituent 
of happiness. The greed for gold robbed the Indians 
of their sobriety, and, instead, of lifting them 
out of savagery, plunged them still deeper for the 
sake of gratifying the white man’s greed for gold. 

This same spirit still predominates to-day among 
the nations which boast that they occupy the very 
front ranks among the civilized nations of the 
earth. And among them all the United States is 
in the lead. She, more than any other nation, is 
forcing the weaker nations into debauchery and 
vices suck as they had not known in their heathen 
darkness, by delivering to them the liquors which 
have proved a curse to her own people. No one 
can measure the depths of woe into which the 
weaker peoples are being plunged by the accursed 
liquor traffic, save by the degree of responsibility of 
those who are doing the hellish work. When we 
bear this in mind, we dare say little against this 
same spirit manifest in Fritz, and many others as 
bad as he, in those days of our colonial history. 

The boldness and enterprise of Fritz, together 
with his lack of conscience, made him plunge into 
this new work with more vim than he had ever ex- 
hibited before. He made money in those days. He 


190 


BARON STIEGEL. 


soon had a large balance to his account with the Hud- 
son Bay Company, which furnished him with his 
goods and bought his furs at fair prices. The more 
money he made the more the other vices to which 
he had been a prey lost their hold upon him. Gold 
set the mark of selfishness, the seal of its enslaving 
power over every fibre of his mental and physical 
being, and Fritz became the willing slave. The 
nobler impulses of his spiritual being, all those 
powers which distinguish man from the brute and 
make him the image of God, Fritz had lost years 
before when he threw loose reins to his passions 
and appetites. The fact that he was becoming rich 
did not in any degree give evidence that he was be- 
coming better. It simply showed that no man can 
fall so low but that the lust for gold may still seize 
upon him. In the sight of man gold will hide a 
multitude of sins and place its devotees in the front 
ranks of society, but in the sight of God the rich 
man is just as hideous, so long as he is unregener- 
ate, as the vilest beggar. It is true Fritz assumed 
a more respectable air and lost the furtive expres- 
sion which once distinguished him, but much of the 
old twitching at the mouth and the sinister expres- 
sion of countenance so characteristic of evil-minded 
people still remained. 

By and by the balance of power shifted from the 


AN OI,D ENEMY. 


I 9 I 

French to the English, and Fritz realized that it 
would be best for him to discontinue his trips to the 
more removed tribes of Indians, and confine his 
attention to those not so far removed from the more 
established colonies of Pennsylvania and New York. 
However strange it may seem to the reader, Fritz 
gave Nawadaha no more thought than he gave the 
threat he made her, when he was once fully resolved 
to leave the scenes of his activities. Fritz now began 
to enlarge his business by himself keeping a post 
to which trappers brought their produce, and from 
which they obtained their wares. Fritz thus had 
increased facilities for making money. In all these 
months he did not think very much of Stiegel and 
his plans for the Baron’s overthrow. There still 
remained deep down in his being the old desire to 
do him injury. Of a sudden the old embers of 
hatred that had been allowed to smoulder were kin- 
dled into a raging fire. A Conestoga wagon late 
one evening stopped at his place on its way to the 
most distant settlements which, now that the Indians 
were at peace, began to stretch toward the setting 
sun. On this wagon Fritz for the first time in his 
life saw several ten-plate stoves. After examining 
the stove carefully, and when he had already bar- 
gained for the purchase of one of them, he saw on 
the stove the couplet : 


192 


BARON STIEGEL. 


“ Baron Stiegel is der mann 
Der das Eisen-Werk volfiihren kann.” 

(Baron Stiegel is the man 
Who work in iron can.) 

A scowl which entirely transformed his face 
caused the man who had the stoves for sale to in- 
quire whether he had discovered an imperfection or 
break in the iron. Fritz said he had not, but he 
could not use anything that Stiegel ever touched, 
much less manufactured. He desired no stove. 
“ And what has Stiegel ever done to you or to any- 
one ? ” asked the man in astonishment. “ I am his 
teamster, and I can assure you, sir, that I and all 
who know him love and respect him.” 

This was enough. That team would have been 
compelled to move on into the wilderness had not 
other teams which belonged to the same troop ar- 
rived and insisted that the laws of the land gave 
them the privilege to remain near the post during 
the night. 

The old hatred, as we have said, was now again 
kindled to a white heat. Fritz once more resolved 
to carry out his desires to injure if not destroy the 
man he hated. All that night he slept little. He 
made plan after plan in which others were to be 
the workers of mischief whilst he himself would 
urge them forward. But he felt that in order to ac- 


AN OLD ENEMY. 193 

complish anything he must go to the settlement he 
had left years ago. He realized that when he was 
there, before he had been compelled to leave, a 
helpless vagabond. He knew that he had an ally 
such as no man can possess in this world without 
having a certain amount of influence. On this ally 
he determined to rely. His gold which he had 
hoarded, and which thus far had given him little 
real satisfaction, was now to be set into action in 
the destruction of the man whom he hated. After 
a few days he told one of the men in his employ 
that he would be away on business for a week or 
more. The nature of his business he did not see fit 
to state, but the employee saw by the determined 
expression on his face that matters of importance 
must be at stake. 

It was a two days’ journey for Fritz and the train 
of wagons to the Susquehanna. Fritz traveled on 
horseback, but did not think it expedient to go 
alone until he came to Paxton. From thence he 
traveled through the valley, with his rifle slung over 
his back. He crossed the Conewago hills, but the 
beautiful scenery of forest and farm, clad in the 
fresh spring garb, stirred no emotions of grati- 
tude to his heavenly Father for his life and the joy 
of living. In the distance he saw a cloud of smoke 
hanging over the forest. He knew that it was the 
13 


i94 BARON STlEGEt. 

place where he had sought to murder the man he 
hated. The peacefulness of the scene would have 
stirred any feelings except those of vengeance in the 
breast of a man not entirely dead to his better self. 
Fritz was his old hateful self, and, as he looked 
upon the constantly ascending cloud of smoke, he 
muttered a curse and shook his fist in impotent 
rage. That same evening he rode into Lancaster, 
and dismounted at what in the time of his previous 
visit was the best hotel in the place. The next 
morning he told the landlord that he was a mer- 
chant and dealer in trappers’ supplies, and intended 
to make his hotel headquarters for a while. He 
said that he heard that there was an iron foundry 
and extensive works not over a dozen of miles from 
the town, and he wished to visit the place. He 
asked whether the works were prosperous. He 
was told that quite recently the owner had adver- 
tised for large loans. It was rumored that he had 
met with reverses, and was trying to recover him- 
self. 

When Fritz heard this, his eyes snapped with 
anticipation. He made up his mind that if he 
could loan the sums required, if Stiegel had not 
already obtained them, it would yield him every 
opportunity he could wish to punish his fancied 
enemy. He learned that Stiegel offered to give 


AN OLD ENEMY. 


195 


judgment notes for any amount or amounts lie 
could secure, and that the Baron’s resources were 
ample to make good all his promises. The notes 
were for sale at the bank in the town of Lancaster. 

It was not long before Fritz, to whom we can 
give no other name, was at the bank in question. 
He learned that the Baron wished to effect a loan 
of $20,000.00. Fritz had not so large an amount of 
money at his command, but before noon of that 
day he had paid sixty English guineas in the name 
of his employee for the right to take as much of the 
loan as he desired. He promised to let the bank 
know just how much in the course of ten days. 
When he returned to the hotel he at once asked 
the landlord for his bill, and soon after ten o’clock, 
the day after his arrival, Fritz was on his way back 
to the place from which he had come. 

We will not endeaver to follow Fritz during the 
next ten days in his untiring efforts to make him- 
self master of the loan. Those with whom he had 
traded in the past five years came to his aid, and at 
the end of the time he went with a large retinue 
and the money in his possession. In due time the 
loan was negotiated, and, although Fritz kept him- 
self from Stiegel, he was the principal actor in what 
resulted in an overwhelming tragedy. 

There are those who say that, if all men were 


196 


BARON STIEGEE. 


educated and poverty were eliminated from society, 
the great questions of the day would be solved. 
The experiment has been tried again and again ; but 
it has always been found that neither opulence nor 
education, in themselves, can make men moral. 
We will find that Fritz was just as far from being 
a man, now that he began to know the exhilaration 
which comes from the possession of wealth, as he 
had been when he impotently planned arson and 
murder. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


LOSSES. 

We have seen how the wealth of Stiegel in- 
creased. Everything he touched seem to turn to 
gold. His success in business gave him confidence. 
He made new and greater business ventures, until 
his were the largest iron works in the New World. 
With his constantly growing wealth he became 
more lavish in his expenditures. The motto which 
regulated his life was, Get all you can without hurt- 
ing your soul, your body, or your neighbor. Use 
your money liberally for your own comfort and 
convenience. Do not hoard it ; but, above all, give 
all you can. Be glad to give. You will thus lay 
up your treasure where “ moth doth not corrupt, 
and where thieves do not break through or steal.” 

The use of money in a legitimate way cannot 
injure anyone. It is an instrument with which we 
can most readily supply our wants and gratify our 
desires. It binds neighbors and nations together in 
trade, and teaches them their mutual dependence. 
When it is misused, it becomes a clanking chain 


198 


• BARON STIEGEE. 


with which it binds its votaries. It brings nearly 
all the comforts of civilized life, but it also brings 
care and trial to its most careful and judicious 
possessor. Misused, it can never supply the lack 
of virtue any more than its jingle can heal wounded 
honor. If it is made the chief end of life, it will 
make life a dismal failure, and its very possession 
prove a sore disappointment. 

We have said that Stiegel used his money aright, 
and so he did. Some called him lavish in his ex- 
penditures, and that he kept more servants than 
necessary, fed more bread and meat to his hounds 
than was necessary to feed the county’s poor. But 
it must be remembered that Stiegel ’s sore bereave- 
ment caused his hungry soul to seek satisfaction in 
such things as his money could buy. Whatever 
may have been the cause of the Baron’s financial 
embarrassment, whether it was his too lavish ex- 
penditure in his home life, or whether it was be- 
cause he launched out into the maelstrom of invest- 
ments too deeply, will never be known, but it is 
sure that he advertised for a loan, and that his 
enemy and his enemy’s friends obtained the money 
and loaned it to Stiegel. From the moment that 
the loan was made, Stiegel was no longer a free 
man. It has always and it always will remain 
true, that the “ borrower is servant to the lender.” 


LOSSES. 


199 


The servitude is not always as galling and as 
ruinous as it was in this case, but it is bound to 
exist. 

The writer owes the reader a word in explanation 
of Fritz’s rapidly increasing wealth ; although in 
this country, to-day perhaps more than at any time 
in our national history, some very poor and worth- 
less characters have become wealthy in less time 
than has elapsed since our first introduction to 
Fritz, we have seen he made money in the new 
and wild life he entered upon at the beginning of 
the French and Indian War. When he began to 
make money, he for the first time wrote to his 
kindred in Germany. He gave his life the most 
roseate coloring possible. He sent across the 
Atlantic unique and useful presents, such as furs 
and bison skins. He spared no pains to impress 
his people with his prosperity in the New World. 
When his parents died, his two brothers, all that 
remained of his family, concluded to come to 
America, and take with them their own and Fritz’s 
inheritance. Thus the three brothers had ample 
means at their command to do a large business. 
They established a station, and although at the 
time Fritz made up his mind to go to the Huber 
settlement he was alone, the other two having 
gone on an expedition among the Indians, he knew 


200 


BARON STIEGEI*. 


and trusted the employee who remained at the 
station. 

We have already seen that Fritz’s money made 
him not a whit better morally and spiritually ; we 
shall yet see what was the final outcome. The 
loan advanced Stiegel in the name of his two 
brothers was not entirely their own. It belonged 
in part to the company of which they were mem- 
bers. They, therefore, saw the need of closer deal- 
ing and of leading the most economical lives ; for 
from the very moment that the loan was made 
Fritz pointed out the rich reward which would 
accrue from their economy, provided they would be 
able to ruin Stiegel socially and financially, and 
enter upon the entire possession of all his property. 

As for Stiegel, he was not at all apprehensive of 
any impending disaster. It is true, he did not like 
the thought that he was indebted to any man for a 
part of what at one time was his without a cent of 
debt. He excused himself for making this loan, 
because the times were not what they had been a 
year or two after the war, and, then too, had he not 
made extensive improvements in the works ? But 
reason as he would, he could not forget what Herr 
Huber had counseled when he had suggested that 
they enlarge the works and solicit capital in the 
home country. He said: “Friends to whom you 


LOSSES. 


201 


are in debt you hate. Let us keep out of debt and 
remain comparatively handicapped in our work 
rather than use the capital of others, and constantly 
feel that we are watched and regarded with suspi- 
cion by those whom we owe.” 

It was about this time that Benjamin Franklin 
wrote, “ Lying rides upon debt’s back. The second 
vice is lying, the first is running into debt. Credi- 
tors have better memories than debtors ; and credi- 
tors are a superstitious sect, great observers of set 
days and times. They have a short Lent who owe 
money to be paid at Easter.” 

But with all that Stiegel read and thought upon 
the matter, not two years had passed away before he 
contracted another loan. In those days the men 
who had money in large amounts to loan were not 
so numerous, and Stiegel’s proffered securities went 
begging in the market ; but so soon as Fritz heard 
of Stiegel’s desire to borrow he contrived to lend, 
and once more the two brothers’ names were re- 
corded upon the books in the county court-house. 
This time more than before, Fritz felt happy at the 
thought that the Baron was slowly but surely pass- 
ing into his power ; but still he kept his own per- 
sonality in the background. 

Perhaps you have sailed over the calm, clear sur- 
face of a river and beheld the fisherman’s net at the 


202 


BARON STIEGEE. 


bottom of the stream, holding in its meshes a num- 
ber of the finny tribe. You saw the fish attempt 
to sport in the water as before they entered the net. 
They realized that their freedom was more or less 
destroyed, but they did not know that they were 
already in the fisherman’s power. Only when he 
came and hauled them to the shore, his doomed 
prey, they realized that they were fast. Stiegel, 
more unconscious than the fish in the net, tried to 
do just as he had done before and live as he had 
lived ; but everywhere he turned he saw that men 
looked upon him with suspicion or stood in little 
groups, and, in low tones, conversed with each other 
at the same time that they looked over their shoul- 
ders at him as if they feared an assault. So the 
months lengthened into years, and Stiegel manufac- 
tured less and sold even less than he manufactured. 
The interest of his loans became due surprisingly 
soon, but still the German Baron feared nothing. 

The dark clouds of the oncoming war for indepen- 
dence now gathered rapidly in the political horizon. 
Men watched each other with suspicion. It was a 
time when men in business and politics wished to 
feel sure of each other. After the tea party in Bos- 
ton Harbor, merchants pledged themselves not to 
buy or sell teas, and the rich and poor alike re- 
frained from using the same. Stiegel was very 


LOSSES. 


203 


independent. Coffee and tea were a necessity upon 
his table. It was no easy matter to persuade him- 
self that he would be just as well without either ; 
so he kept on using and consequently buying teas. 
It was not long until he was told that he was dis- 
loyal to the colonists, and that his conduct was very 
obnoxious to his fellow-citizens. They even called 
town-meetings in Lancaster, and condemned the 
merchants who bought or sold imported teas. Al- 
though Stiegel was not a citizen of Lancaster, his 
name was frequently mentioned as one of those who 
deserved the contempt of the colonists. This ob- 
noxious conduct on the part of the Baron caused 
his business interests to languish more than any- 
thing else. 

Although the Baron professed to care little or 
nothing for the innumerable tongues that wagged 
and hissed their scorn because of his actions, deep 
down in his soul he felt keenly their taunt. He 
realized that he was becoming unpopular, and, say 
what you will, few men there are who do not dread 
to be held in disrepute. It is true, as Carlyle has 
said, “ Popularity is a blaze of illumination, or, alas, 
of conflagration kindled round a man ; showing 
what is in him ; not putting the smallest item more 
into him ; often abstracting much from him.” It 
is also true that in the strong illumination of popu- 


204 


BARON STIEGEE. 


larity the beholders gain very distorted and incor- 
rect ideas of those whom they adore. In the dark 
clouds of adversity men shine by the light within 
them, and not by the light that their fancied virtues 
may have kindled for them. Stiegel was under a 
cloud, and he knew it ; yet he moved serenely on. 
He believed that the time would at length come in 
which his fellows would see his real position. He 
determined to prove his loyalty by more than the 
presence or absence of the grounds of tea in his 
cup. 

Stiegel had great will power. Once when the 
physician told him that he would soon die of con- 
sumption, he determined, in spite of the physician’s 
advice, to do the very things which, to the ordinary 
consumptive, would mean sure death. He took a 
bath in cold water every morning, wore no woolen 
clothing over his chest, and was out in all kinds of 
weather. His will power saved him. He believed, 
with Goethe, that he who is firm moulds the world 
to himself. During these early days of his unpop- 
ularity his will made him seem not only stubborn, 
but even traitorous, to his country. Energy, invin- 
cible determination to pursue his path in the face 
of all opposition, on the part of Stiegel, made him 
appear foolish even in the sight of his friends. It 
was evident to them, that, if he was ever to retrieve 


LOSSES. 205 

his sinking fortunes, he must change in many 
ways. 

At length the news of the battle of Bunker Hill, 
fought June 17th, 1775, reached StiegePs neighbor- 
hood. By a feat as masterly as it was judicious, 
Stiegel, in one-half day regained nearly all that he 
had lost, at least so far as popularity was concerned. 
As soon as he heard of the battle, which he felt sure 
was the tocsin of the war for freedom and the her- 
ald of the birth of a great nation, he gave his men 
a half-holiday. Political orators were summoned 
from Lancaster, and resolutions of sympathy with 
the great cause which the colonists of Massachu- 
setts had espoused were passed and signed. Public 
opinion is like a mob, one bold stroke may cow, one 
judicious sentence may sway it, though at first it 
may hesitate or falter. Stiegel’s action in the pres- 
ence of the oncoming storm swayed public opinion, 
which had strongly set against him. Men began to 
talk of him in public with more favor, and com- 
mended him in private, confessing that they had 
misunderstood him. 

When, not quite a year after the battle of Bunker 
Hill, the Declaration of Independence was signed, 
and the news reached him two days afterward, at a 
public meeting held the same day in which the 
news was received, the men employed in all of 


206 


BARON STIEGEE. 


Stiegel’s works with one accord offered their 
services to their country, and Stiegel expressed 
himself willing to devote all his furnaces and 
forges to the manufacture of government supplies, 
he became the hero of the neighborhood. Thus it 
was that he regained his reputation as a citizen, 
loyal, and devoted to his country. The news of his 
offer soon reached those in authority, and inquiries 
as to his ability to do much or little for his country 
were set on foot. 


CHAPTER XX. 


HOME ! 

Ale that day the little company, bound for home, 
and kindred, and friends, journeyed on. Only 
once, at noontide, when the voice of the cricket 
was hushed even in the depths of the forest and 
the birds sat still upon overhanging limb and the 
heat of the sun was felt in the shadowed pathway, 
the little company sat down upon a mossy bank on 
the edge of a cool, rippling streamlet that not far 
away burst from the rocks that could not hold its 
clear, bright water in their adamantine grasp. 
After the simple meal of cold venison and parched 
corn they arose and once more pressed forward. 

Nawadaha could now travel much faster and en- 
dure much more than she could seven years before, 
when she did not journey as rapidly, on her way to 
captivity and sorrow. She had become stronger, 
though she was thin and pale, and comparatively 
frail. A great deal depends on where we are going 
as to the litheness of limb and buoyancy of spirit. 

(207) 


208 


BARON STIEGEE. 


Only a short time ago a noted criminal had to go 
from the prison van to the iron door of the prison, 
and yet in that short journey he endured more hor- 
rors than when he was finally led to the execution- 
er’s chair. It was all because a mob that thirsted 
for his blood was at his heels, and by their howls 
and imprecations filled his soul with anguish. Na- 
wadaha was going home, to the arms of loved ones 
and tender greetings of those from whom she had 
so long been separated. The rich memories of 
their kindness which had glimmered like diamonds 
through all the years of her captivity were now 
to be supplemented by treasures just as precious. 

When at last the sun came in long slanting rays 
and made their forms cast giant shadows before 
them, they came to a clearing on the edge of a vast 
mountain. From this clearing they looked down 
upon a sea of green tree-tops over which huge 
birds were skimming in solemn silence. In the 
distance, in the narrow valley, the white smoke 
from half a dozen chimneys arose in spirals, thin 
and graceful, toward the deep blue sky far above 
them. Surrounding the cottages were great fields 
from whose gray bosoms were just bursting the 
shoots of young corn. Other fields were green and 
velvety with wheat and clover, whilst in the fore- 
ground a man and boy were driving a mixed flock 


HOME ! 


209 


of sheep and cows to their evening shelter. Na- 
wadaha clapped her hands with joy at the sight, at 
the same time exclaiming : “ How precious also are 
Thy thoughts unto me, O God ! how great is the 
sum of them ! If I should count them, they are 
more than the sand” (Ps. cxxxix. 17, 18). 

It was long after sunset before the little com- 
pany were greeted by the barking of the village 
dogs. They seemed so much like the snapping, 
snarling curs to which Nawadaha had so often 
listened during her captivity that she shuddered at 
the unwelcome greeting. But the little company 
had nothing to fear. They were made to feel at 
home. That night, the first time in seven years, 
the girls had fried pork, coffee, and bread for their 
supper. The three girls were given a bed in one 
of the cottages ; but they did not long lie upon the 
immense straw ticks. They took the covers and 
spread them upon the bare boards and then they 
slept so sweetly, so soundly, that the morning sun, 
peering through the one glass window in the house, 
fell full upon their faces and awakened them. 

We cannot dwell upon each day’s experiences in 
that long journey from captivity in the forest’s 
depth into the light and cheer of liberty. It must 
suffice us to say that a journey from beyond the 
Ohio to the settlements on the banks of the Sus- 
14 


210 


BARON STIEGEL. 


quehanna, more than a century and a quarter ago, 
when there were no railroads, was no small under- 
taking. For a great part of the way the road was 
along Indian trails. The great State roads, which 
once were the principal thoroughfares between the 
chief cities, were then just in the process of being 
made passable. Some of these roads are still in 
use, others are included in the great farms which 
now have taken the place of dense forests. Some of 
the settlements, which gave promise of becoming 
the sites of great cities, are now entirely lost on 
the maps ; others are little villages which remain 
like dwarfs, whilst their neighbors have grown into 
the giants of commerce. Thus it is that even cities 
and settlements have their seasons of prosperity 
and of decay and death. 

They waited in the little settlement nearly all 
that day before they saw, crawling toward them, 
snail-like, half-a dozen white covered wagons drawn 
by horses. They emerged from between the moun- 
tains over which the girls and their guides had 
come. All that afternoon the tired horses were 
allowed to rest ; but the next morning, whilst the 
stars were still shining, they started on the nearly 
three-hundred mile journey eastward. The girls 
were assigned a place in the front wagon the same 
afternoon the teams arrived. This was to be their 


HOME ! 


211 


quarters until they arrived at Carlisle, which at 
that time was not yet named. 

The journey, from the day they left the Indian 
village until they finally arrived at their destination, 
required two weeks. The women met many who 
were interested in their experiences, and received 
much sympathy and many little kindnesses during 
the long days of their journey. Some evenings 
they stopped in the forest, close to some settlement. 
The women became the cooks of the party. There 
was an abundance of game in the mountains through 
which they journeyed, and the meal they carried 
with them furnished them cakes and bread. Some 
days it rained all the day and the streams that they 
forded were swollen and dangerous; but, on the 
whole, the journey was most delightful, and the 
memories which clustered about those days were 
the most romantic and hallowed of all their lives. 

Nawadaha, the singer, in her gentle voice, sang 
the simple songs of her childhood. She sang of 
home and heaven ; and the brown-visaged men who 
had, many of them, gentle Christian mothers, re- 
called the lessons learned years ago, and heard again 
in imagination the gentle admonitions from lips 
that were now cold in death. Thus Nawadaha im- 
proved her opportunities for doing good, in a way so 
gentle and so unobtrusive, that she became the real 


212 


BARON STIEGEE. 


leader of the party. It is true that the world, that 
is, those with whom we associate, the situations in 
which we are placed, are a looking-glass in which 
we show our true selves. If we give kindness we 
receive kindness and cheer for cheer. This lesson, 
above every other, our acquaintance with Nawadaha 
teaches, namely, that it is not so much where we 
are as what we are that makes our true selves. The 
life within more than the life without is the wand 
which transmutes the dull clay into gold. 

When at last our travelers reached their destina- 
tion, they were kept at the public expense, and their 
names and the date and circumstances of their cap- 
tivity were published far and wide. They found 
that other women and children who had been 
brought from other parts of the great forests were 
there awaiting their friends. On a certain day they 
were gathered in a public square. They stood in a 
row, and the friends who had come, some of them 
many miles, to identify their kindred, filed by, care- 
fully scanning the features of those who had just 
come from captivity. Every now and then there 
arose a muffled cry as heart was clasped to heart by 
those long separated. 

The Baron heard of the coming of the captives, 
and although he did not believe that the companion 
of his now sainted wife would be among them, he 


HOME ! 


213 


felt that he ought to go and see. The journey re- 
quired only a day, and although he might not find 
her whom he sought, he might learn something 
of her whereabouts or her strange fate. So he re- 
solved to go personally, and perhaps he would be 
able to set his mind forever at rest. He took with 
him half a dozen of men, and traveled in all the 
pomp and style which were so characteristic of him 
in those days of prosperity. When he arrived the 
review for the day was just about to close, and 
Nawadaha’s heart was saddened by the thought 
that, although many had met their friends, she had 
not had the joy of looking into a single familiar 
face. She began to feel lonely, even though she 
was in the midst of a vast company. The tears 
were brimming in her eyes and beclouded her 
vision. She resolved to be herself, and with a de- 
termined hand she brushed them away. As she 
did so, and looked at the few straggling late-comers, 
she saw the tall form of Baron Stiegel as he slowly 
approached, earnestly looking into the faces of 
those who who remained unidentified. She stepped 
out of the line, and, extending her hand, she said, 
“ Baron Stiegel ! ” 

He recognized her voice at once, and, eagerly 
snatching her in his manly arms, he held her to his 
bo3om, whilst he imprinted a kiss upon her fore- 


214 


BARON STIEGEE. 


head and spoke her name. A moment more and 
she was about to walk away leaning upon his prof- 
fered arm ; but she had only taken a few steps 
when she heard a cry and felt eager hands clutching 
her person. She knew that it was the grasp of her 
companions in captivity, whom in the glad moments 
of her greeting of Stiegel she had forgotten. 

The girls, she realized, she could not leave. They 
had not been greeted by anyone all that day. The 
Baron soon heard of their unpleasant and lonely 
condition, and it required only a moment for him 
to determine what to do. He told them they would 
all wait another day, and if their friends would not 
come he would take them to his home. They 
waited another day, and the now small company of 
unidentified captives was again led out for inspec- 
tion. Finally an aged woman, bowed and infirm, 
passed along the line. More than once her anxious 
eyes sought those before her. More than once she 
looked into the faces of the two unclaimed young 
women. Finally shaking her head in despair and 
wringing her hands, as the memory of the awful 
day in which she lost her dear ones became a vivid 
mental picture, she sank to a seat and buried her 
face in her hands. The general who was in charge 
of the captives asked her whether she did not rec- 
ollect a song or prayer she had taught her lost 


HOME ! 


215 


ones. Once more she came forward and in a 
motherly voice, quavering it is true with emotion, 
she sang : 

“ Ach bleib bei uns, Herr Jesu Christ 
Weil es nun Abend worden ist, 

Dein Gottlich Wort, das helle Licht 
Lasz ja bei uns ausloschen nicht.” 

In an instant the words and plaintive tones of 
the mother struck a chord that had not vibrated for 
all the years since the children had last heard the 
song and the singer. In an instant more the girls 
threw themselves into her arms ; the one word, 
“ Mother ! ” was all they uttered. 

That same day the three women who had spent 
nearly half a score of years in captivity separated, 
but they promised each other that the separation 
should not be lasting. Souls that had been riveted 
together by ties so tender could not thus be severed 
at one stroke. Nawadaha had been tender as a 
sister and loving as a mother all those years, and 
the two girls in that moment of separation would 
rather have shared the fortunes of Nawadaha than 
to go with their own mother. 

The Baron was now compelled to provide a horse 
for the one woman in all the world who was near- 
est to his heart ere he married his queenly 
Elizabeth. The horse was readily secured, and the 


2l6 


BARON STIEGER. 


little cavalcade started on their journey to what was 
once the Huber settlement. I need not tell the 
reader that the sad news of Elizabeth’s death had 
been detailed to Nawadaha within an hour after the 
Baron had found his wife’s friend. The first ques- 
tion Nawadaha asked the Baron after the greeting 
was concerning the health and happiness of Eliza- 
beth. The manly bosom heaved and the eyes filled 
with tears as he answered simply, “ Elizabeth is 
with the angels.” That evening, when they met in 
the one large room of the inn to which the Baron 
at once took Elizabeth, she drew from him the 
story which the reader has already had in all its sad 
detail. 

Before the shadows of evening fell on the same 
day upon which Stiegel set out for the settlement, 
the people in the village around Elizabeth Furnace 
heard the horn of the advance rider, giving notice 
that the Baron was returning. The sound was a 
familiar one ; but when the rider appeared and 
shouted at the top of his voice, “ The lost is found ! ” 
the people were anxious to know whether he meant 
that the companion of Elizabeth, whom many 
mourned as dead, was still really living and on her 
way to the settlement. When they were told that 
it was even so, their surprise was exceeded only by 
their joy at her return. 


HOME ! 


217 


It was only a short time after the announcement 
of the coming of the lost one before she herself ap- 
peared riding at the side of Stiegel. Many of those 
who had known her most intimately would have 
known her no more. She seemed taller than when 
they last saw her ; but that was owing to the fact 
that she was no longer stout. Her life in the open 
air and her constant outdoor exercise had made her 
muscular. Her voice seemed deeper, more musical, 
and even more gentle than when they last heard 
her warble the old German hymns in accompani- 
ment to the piano and harp. Her exposed life had 
added charm to her being and grace to her person, 
even though she had grown older in years. 

Many of those who had been her companions 
were no more. As the cloud melts away in the 
blue fields of ether, and we scarce can trace its de- 
parture, so many in the settlement had quietly 
slipped out of life, soon forgotten save by their most 
intimate friends ; but Nawadaha missed them be- 
cause she had not been there to watch their going. 
Those who had been little children nestled on their 
mother’s bosom, were now blushing into maiden- 
hood or were becoming sturdy, manly youths. 
Such is life. Nothing can pause or stay. Every- 
thing that lives flourishes or decays. Death fol- 
lows close at the heels of life. Where mortal life 


2i8 


BARON STIEGEL. 


opens a door, death is sure at some time to 
follow. 

There was no one whose absence was felt so 
keenly as that of Elizabeth and her parents. She 
felt, as no doubt feels the mother bird who at her 
coming finds her mate gone and her nestling dead. 
The departure of these her earthly friends cast a 
long and ever-deepening shadow on her life-path. 
Yet, let us ask, why should she or we or anyone 
feel sad because of the changes wrought by time 
and his companion, death? God never changes, 
and he whom God possesses ought want nothing, 
because all things wanting shall be his by and by. 

Stiegel offered Nawadaha a home in the old man- 
sion at the Furnaces. He said she could take up 
her old life of helpfulness and sympathy, and 
although many of those whom she had known and 
loved were now beyond her care, or the need of it, 
the world was still the same needy, sorrowing 
world, eager for help and throbbing for a heart 
warm with sympathy. It was thus that Nawa- 
daha was led to take up the old life in the same 
village to which she had come so many years be- 
fore, even sadder and lonelier than now. In the 
silence of her heart the same Spirit continued to 
speak of the need and cares of others, that had so 
often spoken to her in her lonely forest home. 


HOME ! 


219 


Very soon the little children of the village came 
to the old stone house which for so long a time had 
been without a mistress. The man or woman dis- 
liked by children should dwell apart from the 
rest of human society, for, whilst it is true that they 
have no forebodings, it is likewise true that they are 
splendid judges of human nature, and to be dreaded 
by the children is nearly always a sign of an evil 
soul. Nawadaha, as we have seen, was always 
loved by the little ones. Now that she had dwelt 
so long in the depths of the great forests, her life 
had a special charm for childhood which is always 
poetic and dreamy, whether its home be in the city, 
on the farm, or in the forest. For this reason the 
children often asked her many strange questions, or 
begged her for a story or a legend. Perhaps, 
kind reader, you would be pleased to listen to one 
of her narratives. If so, the following will be of 
interest : 

Far away toward the crimson, golden bronze of 
the sunset skies there is a summer land by the side 
of a great salt ocean. Round about this land vast 
mountains tower, their lofty summits and beetling 
brows whiten with snow, where they lose them- 
selves in the unfathomed blue of the tropic skies. 
Among these mighty mountains the echoes dwell, 
and when the winds battle and rage around the 


220 


BARON STIEGEI*. 


gray peaks a thousand thunders roar down through 
the ravines as the echoes take sides, now with one 
warring giant and again with another. 

But the soft, hazy valleys lie far below, and here 
summer dwells eternally, soft and languorous, her 
brow wreathed with passion flowers, and her waist 
girdled with roses. From her garments floats the 
delicate odor of violets and the intoxicating fra- 
grance of orange blossoms and yucca, and of every 
flower which, transplanted from Paradise, gladdens 
the earth. 

At the border of the valley a mountain lifts itself 
from the plain and midway is rent asunder. Here, 
in the mountain’s heart, dwells the wild, shy spirit 
of the grottoes and mountain brooks. The vast 
gray cliffs form a canon, and lean closer and closer 
toward each other, as if the two gray old brothers 
would lay their shoulders together to protect the 
beautiful canon at their feet from the icy breath of 
hoary old winter ; for, banished from the valley be- 
neath, ten thousand feet above those cliffs he holds 
his court amid the accumulated frosts of the centu- 
ries. But the two brothers are separated by a little 
cleft, and from the narrow rift which keeps them 
apart there leaps and falls a little stream of silvrey 
water, as if the mountain sprite, who lives in the 
canon, were grieved by the two gray brothers that 


HOME ! 


221 


seem to be yearning to touch each other, and were 
weeping silently in her grotto. 

The great cliffs far down in the canon are clothed 
with the softest moss and exquisite ferns, and the 
little dripping grottoes in their sides are like the 
homes of mountain fairies, with their soft, shadowy 
draperies of beautiful tropical fern and their up- 
holstering of white moss. But as the vast walls 
of rock tower upward and lift their heads hundreds 
of feet above the trees at their base, they lose their 
soft covering, and at last they toss their shaggy 
heads, rough and bare of life, to the soft caress and 
the lingering kiss of the breeze, in that land of 
summer. 

The little stream, which leaps from the rocks at 
one end of the canon, slips quietly along, mirroring 
the great tree-trunks and the ferns and mosses on its 
banks. At one place it widens, and, in the evening, 
when dusk has already settled in the deep canon, the 
tiny, shadowy lake sleeps, surrounded by the dark 
trees and overhanging walls of rock, and dreams of 
the sunset sky, far, far above it, catching in its 
limpid depths the reflection of the soft purple, with 
its tiny, wandering fleck of crimson, like stray 
petals blown aloft from a dying rose. 

Here, by the side of the little lake, long ago, 
dwelt a bunch of moss. Sweetly humble and con- 


222 


BARON STIEGEE. 


tent, it lay through the many purple nights and 
perfumed days, looking now at the laughing little 
brook, with its shining pebbles and dripping ferns, 
and again at the narrow line of intense heaven 
floating so far above it. 

But one day a stranger appeared in this place of 
modest, green, dew-wet things. A stray seed fell 
by the brookside, where it caught a few golden 
sunbeams each noontime, and a flaunting, golden 
poppy lifted her graceful head and nodded and 
smiled at her reflection in the brook. Then the 
modest ferns drooped their lovely heads further 
into the shadows, abashed by the proud beauty. 
The moss forgot the sweet little maiden-hair fern 
beside it and could look only at the wondrous face 
of the stranger, the sun-child, which grew on the 
other side of the purling brook. So the sad little 
fern beside her withered and died ; but he had for- 
gotten all about her, and so, one day, when he 
could no longer endure his loneliness, the moss 
decided to slip silently across the little brook to his 
proud love, who had given him scarcely a second 
glance. But as the moss dropped softly into the water, 
a passing breeze caught the proud poppy and scat- 
tered her yellow petals, and the brook hurried the 
inconstant moss away. Then, as he felt himself 
swept helplessly and quickly along, further and 


HOME ! 


223 


further from his home, he thought of the loving 
constancy of the green fern, but it was too late, 
and his tiny tear-drops of dew only fell, unnoticed, 
into the water. Soon the little brook flowed out of 
the deep shadow of the sides of the canon into the 
“ Mountain of Echoes,” and the fierce eye of the 
sun fell upon the drooping stranger borne along by 
the stream. 

On and on, between the fragrant orange groves 
and peach orchards, whose mingled perfume floated 
heavily on the air, the drooping little alien was 
borne. Finally the brook widened and became a 
river, flowing between broad, level banks. As the 
river flowed on, it, by and by, slipped along a beau- 
tiful, splendid city, and began to murmur to itself 
of the ocean, toward which it was hastening. All 
day the breath of the ocean whispered softly to the 
river, and at last, one evening, the tired moss lifted 
its drooping head and saw that it was nearing the 
place which was to be its home forever ; and soon 
it floated out from the land into a boundless world 
of water toward the fierce eye of the sun as he 
sank, blazing, behind the distant curve of the hori- 
zon. The moss tasted the bitter waters and knew 
that it must soon die. 

One by one the tiny, silvery stars opened their 
eyes and looked pityingly at the little stranger, lost 


224 


BARON STlEGEIy. 


and dying, and one sweet, wide-eyed star told a 
wandering sea-nymph about the moss. Then the 
gentle-hearted child of the sea came and took the 
withered moss, and wept over his sad story. In 
her pity she took him down into the clear depth 
of the ocean, and planted him there, amidst the sil- 
very glimmer of the sea-sands and the scattered 
shells, beneath the shadows of a huge rock. There 
it grew, and so the great family of sea-mosses was 
born. 

But the moss never forgot his lonely home in the 
mountain, beside the timid fern, and often, when 
there is a storm and the ocean is angry and wild, 
he is carried, affrighted by the war and noise, upon 
foam-crested billows and cast upon the shore. But, 
alas ; the moss cannot live upon the land any more, 
and he is but a poor, shapeless little mass of deli- 
cate tendrils upon the barren sands, forgotten by 
the yellow poppy and mourned by the gentle child 
of the ocean. 

When the children gazed in open-mouthed won- 
der into the face of Nawadaha as she finishes her 
story, she said : “ Children, learn from the fate of 
the sea-moss to be content with your lot. Those 
alone should bemoan their fate who still grovel in 
the dark, but lofty souls who look for God can 
smile wherever their lot is cast.” 


HOME ! 


225 


On another occasion, when the children gathered 
around her asking for a story, she told them of a 
family who lived on what was the frontier, before 
the French and Indian War began. One Sunday 
morning the entire family had gone to the village 
church, some miles away from their home. This 
village was surrounded by a stockade, and the 
church itself was more like a fort than a place of 
worship. 

We have said the entire family, with the excep- 
tion of one child, a girl, twelve or fourteen years of 
age. As the child was trying to amuse herself the 
best she could, and the time became very long, 
she resolved to go to a sunny place behind the 
little log-house and see if she could find any plants 
or the seeds of the flowers she had sown the autumn 
before. But when she came to the back of the 
house she looked out over the trail as it lost itself 
in the forest to the west of her home. She was 
almost startled to see a large band of Indians 
emerge from the woods and ride rapidly toward her 
home. 

There was a whole village of them some miles 
distant in the forest, and many of them had fre- 
quently come to her home for something to eat. 
Her mother always gave them something, and so, 
whenever they rode by the house on their hunting 

15 


226 


BARON STIEGKly. 


expeditions, they always lowered their tomahawks, 
to show that they were friendly to the people of 
that home. This time they did not ride by, but 
halted for milk. The girl gave them what they 
desired. Before they remounted their horse, Red 
Squirrel, as their chief was called, gave the little 
girl a wonderful talisman of beads, tassels, and 
thongs. “You will soon hear of a war with the 
pale-faces,” he said in broken English, “ but hang 
these over your door, and no Indian will harm you.” 

By and by, after the Indians had departed, the 
father and the rest of the family came home from 
church. That evening he gathered the cattle 
early, saying, “ There are dark rumors of an Indian 
outbreak, and God alone knows what may occur. 
It becomes everyone to remain in his own home.” 
Then the little girl told her father what Red Squirrel 
had said, and she showed him the talisman he had 
given her. 

Some members of the family were in favor of 
abandoning everything and hastening to the fort ; 
but the little girl said she would trust the Indian 
chieftain, for she had put his talisman above the 
door as he had asked her to do. Because of her 
faith, all remained in their home. 

It was not many nights after that before they 
saw the sky reddening in different places, and 


HOME ! 


227 


they knew that the worst had come. Brave men 
and women with their innocent children were being 
murdered, and the fruits of their toil destroyed. 
During all that long war that home stood un- 
molested. The man and his family went about 
their work as in time of peace. No Indian lifted a 
tomahawk to do anyone any harm. 

When Nawadaha had finished, one of the children 
said, “ That talisman seemed a very little thing to 
preserve in safety a whole family.” “ Yes,” said 
Nawadaha, “but do you not remember how the 
children of Israel were preserved from the hand of 
the destroying angel, who went throughout the land 
of Egypt and destroyed all the first-born?” Then 
she opened the Bible and read, “ When I see blood 
I will pass over you.” Then she told the children 
how Jesus Christ has become the surety for the 
salvation of everyone who trusts in Him. “ His 
blood and righteousness our jewel are and glorious 
dress.” Kind reader, can you say : 

“lam under the blood, forgiven and blest, 

’Tis my ground of acceptance, of safety, of rest ; 

Nought else could redeem me, nought else could atone, 
The blood of the Saviour has power alone ; 

And I read with rejoicing God’s message so true, 

‘ When I see the blood I will pass over you ? ’ ” 


CHAPTER XXL 


IMPORTANT EVENTS. 

The War of the Revolution was now fully begun. 
In fact, there was not a decade in the life of the 
colonists during which they could say that there 
was no foe ready to rob them of their earnings, 
their homes, and their very life also. But now the 
greatest conflict in their history was upon them ; a 
conflict which, they were sure, could only end in 
either forging new fetters upon them or in the 
birth of a new nation. It was, therefore, necessary 
to know who was friend and who was foe. Because 
of the stand Stiegel took, he was considered among 
those most devoted to the cause of the colonists. 

It must be remembered that those who were 
untrue to the great hearts upon whom the result 
of the conflict depended were by no means few. 
In addition to the great number of Tories and trai- 
tors, there were jealousies, trickeries, and meanness 
within the band of patriots, which were a serious 
hindrance to the success of their soldiers in the 
field. But with it all, the great body of citizens 
(228) 


IMPORTANT EVENTS. 


229 


were willing to starve, to shiver with cold, or to 
swelter in the heat, to tramp over frozen roads, 
barefoot, and, if necessary, to lay down their lives 
for the cause of freedom. 

Stiegel reckoned himself among the most loyal 
of the loyal. He was willing to sacrifice ease, com- 
fort, capital, and life even, to bring to a successful 
issue the war which was spreading death and de- 
vastation on every side. He received large con- 
tracts for the manufacture of cannon and ammuni- 
tion with which to beat back the invading army. 
Soon his furnaces, foundries, and forges were taxed 
to their utmost. As fast as the supplies of ammuni- 
tion were gotten ready teams transported them to 
the front. The greatest inconvenience and loss of 
time were experienced in the transportation, for at 
first the supplies were hauled for long distances 
over rough roads, then they were loaded on slow-going 
vessels, where there seemed no danger of capture. 

The war, which had begun in New England, 
gradually swept down along the Atlantic coast until 
in September, 1777, the theatre of war was ex- 
tended almost to Stiegel’s door. Washington had 
fallen back upon Philadelphia, with the British 
closely upon his heels. On the 26th of September 
they took possession of the country round about the 
city, Congress had hastily gathered itself together 


230 


BARON STlEGEE. 


and had fled to Lancaster. When on the 3d of October 
the battle of Germantown was lost to the Americans, 
the British took final possession of Philadelphia. 
Here they held high revel during the winter of 
’77-78, whilst Washington and his half-clad, starving 
army of patriots were encamped at Valley Forge. 
Those were the darkest days of the war for the 
patriot army. Congress, in alarm, quit the town of 
Lancaster and fled to York. 

Much of the suffering of the American army at 
Valley Forge was due to the disloyalty and cupidity 
of the farmers and the citizens in general round 
about the two armies. Many days passed during 
which the soldiers of the patriot army did not see or 
taste meat, whilst the invaders, warmly quartered in 
the city, had an abundance of the best provisions the 
country afforded. The farmers stole into the city 
with their choicest products, and sold them to the 
enemies of their country for British gold. When 
Washington could endure this state of affairs no 
longer he received authority from Congress to seize 
provisions for his army within a radius of seventy 
miles of his encampment, paying for the same in 
colonial scrip. He ordered the farmers to thresh 
their grain before March first, on pain of having it 
seized for straw. Many of the farmers were so dis- 
loyal and, we may say, inhuman, that they burned 


IMPORTANT EVENTS. 231 

what they could not sell, rather than see it fall into 
the hands of the patriots. 

During the entire winter Stiegel was busy. He 
was doing his utmost to furnish supplies of ammu- 
nition for the patriots encamped at Valley Forge. 
The greatest event of the winter, an event which 
afforded the only diversion all those months, was a 
visit from the Father of his country. His arrival 
was heralded by the discharge of cannon and the 
blowing of whistles. The Baron and as many of 
his men as could be spared from the works rode out 
to meet the General. It was the proudest day of 
Stiegel’s life to ride by the great man’s side, into 
the village, and escort him to the great stone 
mansion, where he and his party spent all the after- 
noon and night. In the evening there were great 
bonfires, and the villagers gathered with the farmers 
from many miles around, to shake the General’s 
hand and to hear what he would say. 

In public and in private during his stay at Eliza- 
beth Furnaces, Washington expressed his confidence 
in the ultimate success and triumph of the patriot 
army. He did much to cheer the flagging hopes 
of his countrymen and to drive away the spirit 
of fear which was beginning to triumph over the 
stoutest hearts. He also urged Stiegel to hurry 
his works in the endeavor to meet the demands of 


BARON STIEGKIv. 


232 

the army. He assured him that in very near 
future he would make an important move against 
the enemy. 

The reader will remember that it was just a little 
more than a year before this when Washington 
crossed the Delaware with twenty-five hundred 
picked men and several pieces of artillery, surprised 
Colonel Rahl, who commanded one thousand Hessians 
in the city of Trenton, and struck a blow so quick, 
so sharp, and so unexpected that it thrilled the 
hearts of the patriots and swelled the ranks of the 
Colonial regiments. In fact, it was the turning 
point of the war. From that time the destinies 
of the colonies took a turn for the better, as every 
reader of history knows. But not everybody knows 
that five hundred of those same Hessians were 
brought to Stiegel’s works and employed by him 
in the digging of a race, by means of which an 
additional supply of water was secured for the 
works and their capacity greatly increased. This 
race was over two miles in length, and its course 
can be traced to this day. 

If the conversation which took place between 
Washington and Stiegel, on what to the settlement 
and the Baron was a memorable night, could be 
reproduced, now that one hundred and twenty-five 
years have passed away and Washington has been 


IMPORTANT EVENTS. 


233 


assigned his true place in American history and 
in the history of great men, I am sure that it would be 
read with the keenest interest ; but it can only be im- 
agined from what we know was the mission of the 
General to the Stiegel home and the status of 
events. Whatever may be the surprises of the 
future, the names of our military heroes will stand 
in the very front of the world’s great generals, 
and leading them all will be the name of Wash- 
ington. We can, therefore, readily understand how 
Stiegel’s heart swelled with honest pride as in the 
closing years of his life, when the name of Wash- 
ington was honored little less than now, he fre- 
quently referred to that memorable visit. 

Yet with all the valour of contending armies, 
with all the pomp of military glory, every nation’s 
best and truest men can hope for nothing better 
than universal peace. But the days of universal 
peace will never dawn upon this war-cursed earth 
until the principles of universal justice and love 
shall rule in the hearts of men and nations through 
the influence and triumph of the religion of Jesus 
Christ. For that consummation so devoutly to be 
wished, let us work and pray. When the war drum 
will have ceased its roll for many generations, and 
the proud monuments of our military heroes will 
begin to crumble, men will marvel that human 


234 


BARON STIEGEE. 


beings should ever have been so inhuman as to 
destroy their fellows for the sake of a little brief 
glory. 

There was one in the old stone mansion who on 
this occasion acted the part of hostess, one who felt 
the importance of the occasion as keenly as Stiegel. 
Our readers can readily guess that this was none 
other than the gentle Nawadaha. Stiegel was 
always proud to introduce her as his friend and the 
beloved companion of his happier days. She was 
now again fully domesticated and in love with the 
more refining and ennobling influences of civilized 
life. The Baron was not always in the stone man- 
sion at the Furnaces. He divided his time between 
The Castle at Schaefferstown and his commodious 
house in Manheim. Nawadaha was the head of 
the house at the Furnaces. She entertained but 
little, and was a most careful housekeeper. 

It would have been better for the Baron had he 
sought the hand of the woman who now, that his 
first and only love was dead, was to him more than 
a sister and kinder than a friend. We have already 
spoken of the Baron’s increasing debts ; but now 
that he was overcrowded with orders for camp and 
field, he was able to meet his interest promptly and 
to keep from incurring greater liabilities of 
becoming a victim for the sheriff’s hands. Per- 


IMPORTANT EVENTS. 


235 


haps this beaming of the sun of prosper- 
ity is only for a little season. Perhaps it is 
but the Indian summer which heralds the near 
approach of the winter of his financial disasters. 
You will admit, kind reader, that so far as you and 
I can see, he is deserving of a better fate. One 
thing is sure, the presence of Nawadaha will keep 
him from running to waste and self-neglect. The 
very thought that she has confidence in him and 
looks upon him as a good, true man will keep him 
from doing anything which would prove him 
otherwise. But we shall see that she proved her- 
self more than what the vine is to the thunder- 
riven trunk around which it has clung, binding its 
shattered branches and boughs together. She did 
more than simply to make him carry himself erect. 
She became his comfort and solace. 

From the time of Washington’s encampment at 
Valley Forge the cloud of war moved southward. 
But with its departure the trials and privations, 
which are the constant attendants of war, continued 
to harass the people of the northern colonies. 
When the thunder-storm that has for hours dev- 
astated a district finally moves away, the people 
who have felt its effect realize that deliverance has 
come. It is not at all likely that it will return ; 
but it was not so with the war-clouds which had 


236 


BARON STlEGEIy. 


hung so long and awfully over the colony of 
Penn. Though it did move southward, there were 
few who felt that it would not return with re- 
doubled fury. So the British had planned that it 
should. They still felt confidence in their ability 
to subjugate the rebellious colonists. But Provi- 
dence had decreed otherwise. Everyone is familiar 
with the greatest event of the American Revolu- 
tion, the decisive triumph which secured the inde- 
pendence of America, the surrender of Lord Corn- 
wallis, on the 19th of October, 1781. It was this 
event which prevented the storm which had so long 
raged around Philadelphia, and had swept into its 
maelstrom many fortunes and reputations, and what 
was more — many human lives — from returning. 

Four days after the surrender of Lord Cornwallis, 
Lieutenant-Colonel Tilghman, one of Washington’s 
aids, reached Philadelphia at midnight The joy- 
ful news he brought rapidly spread throughout the 
city. That same night every watchman on his beat 
added to his usual call, “ All’s well ! ” the words, 
“ and Cornwallis is taken ! ” The old State House 
bell was set ringing, and in a short time nearly 
everybody was out on the streets, cheering, shaking 
hands, and crying for joy. For a little while the 
neighboring towns were forgotten ; but that same 
day a courier bore the news to Lancaster. Stiegel 


IMPORTANT EVENTS. 


237 


heard it the next day. The men were granted a 
holiday. The three cannon planted at the differ- 
ent places where Stiegel made his home were dis- 
charged all the day long at intervals. Men mounted 
their horses and rode to the place at which the can- 
non were located, and thus the entire neighbor- 
hood, for miles around, heard the glad news of vic- 
tory. Men everywhere realized that if the signing 
of the Declaration of Independence was the birth of 
the American nation, the triumph over Cornwallis 
was the first really strong evidence of its robust 
childhood. 

The same day that the city of Philadelphia re- 
ceived the news of the surrender, Congress met at 
an early hour, and the dispatch from the Comman- 
der-in-Chief, the immortal Washington, was read. 
The same afternoon Congress went in a body to the 
German Lutheran Church, and there returned 
“ thanks to God for crowning the allied armies of 
the United States and France with victory.” 

The example of Congress was followed in the 
towns throughout the province of Pennsylvania. 
Baron Stiegel assembled his workmen and many 
others of the village and surrounding neighbor- 
hood in the Brickerville Lutheran Church. He 
himself was the principal speaker. He said, in 
substance : “ The victory of Washington over the 


238 


BARON STIEGBX. 


British at Yorktown marks the close of our long 
struggle for independence. The days of our tribu- 
lation and anguish are ended. The time for re- 
joicing has come. Only a few years ago when 
Fort Washington and Fort Tee were captured by 
the British, and two thousand prisoners and much 
military stores fell into their hands, and Washing- 
ton with an army of only three thousand patriots 
fled before this same Cornwallis, flushed and em- 
boldened by victory, from place to place through 
the province of New Jersey, despair was settling 
upon our beloved country, like a pall. Now, 
thanks to our God, the dark clouds have lifted and 
the sun of light and cheer shines upon our people. 
To-day we are glad for what God hath wrought. 

“ When the enemy was at our very door, many 
of us, like Jacob at Peniel, wrestled all night 
alone, with the God of battles, that He might per- 
mit this infant nation to live, that He might protect 
our homes from the invader and allow the husband- 
man to eat the fruits of the land in peace. To-day 
we realize that He has answered our prayers, to the 
joy of our hearts. It is, therefore, meet and right that 
we this day give thanks to the Lord for His good- 
ness and mercy, so that when the millions yet to 
come shall read of this great victory they may also 
know that we gave the glory unto God ! Unless 


IMPORTANT EVENTS. 


239 


the Lord keepeth the city the watchman waketh in 
vain.” 

This expression of gratitude on the part of 
Stiegel was characteristic of the man. He always 
recognized his dependence upon God. His fervent 
piety at times made him appear odd before his fel- 
lows ; but it has always been true that the closer a 
man w T alks with God the less he appears like the 
world. Some of those whom the world to-day 
calls cranks are the truest patriots and the most 
noble of men. They have implicit faith in God 
and the sure fulfillment of His promises. It is 
true that not all who are called cranks are God’s 
noblemen ; but it must be remembered that he 
whom the Holy Ghost renews leads a transformed 
life and cannot be conformed to the world. 

As was predicted, the war after the surrender of 
Cornwallis drew rapidly to a close. On May 6th, 
of the following year, Lord Carleton arranged 
finally for the evacuation from American soil of all 
the British troops, and, under God, in a few years 
thereafter the American nation entered upon its 
course of development, a growth so rapid and so 
far-reaching that she has been a marvel in the eyes 
of the world. There is only one way in which we 
can account for her marvelous life, and that is by 
giving true credit to the principles of faith in God 


240 


BARON STIEGEE. 


and love of a broad and manly liberty, which char- 
acterized the people of our land from the very 
beginning. The true godliness of such men as 
Stiegel has given our nation such an impulse on 
the road to her greatness so that she still lives upon 
its strength and power. If we and our children 
walk in the footsteps of our patriot fathers, the 
future of this land is assured. But it may well be 
asked whether the transgression of the laws enacted 
by these same patriot fathers can be continued 
much longer with impunity. The majesty of the 
laws lies not so much in the fact that they were 
enacted by those who laid the foundations of 
this country’s civil and political greatness, as it 
does in the fact that these laws are the laws of 
God. God has said : “ Remember the Sabbath to 
keep it holy ; ” yet the desecration of God’s holy 
day, through unnecessary employment and in un- 
holy pleasures, is one of the sad evidences of de- 
cline in our moral and religious life. 

The same may be said with regard to the mar- 
riage relation. God has said : “For this reason shall 
a man forsake his father and his mother and cleave 
unto his wife, and they twain shall be one flesh,” 
yet divorce is so common in our day that the sanc- 
tity of the home is threatened and its hallowed in- 
fluences destroyed. The results of this open viola- 


IMPORTANT EVENTS. 


241 


tion of God’s laws will be seen in the national life 
of the next generation. 

God’s moral law, as interpreted by the teachings 
of Jesus Christ, ought to be the ultimate constitu- 
tion of all governments ; for without the keeping 
of those laws no nation can be great, no matter 
what may be its natural resources. Because our 
forefathers foresaw all this, they enacted the laws 
which in our days of unbelief are called the “ old 
blue laws.” 

We have seen that the Revolution had done much 
to develop Stiegel’s iron works. It has often been 
questioned whether the glass industry which he 
had established at Manheim ever brought him 
much profit. It cannot be denied that he vied with 
the best glass manufactories of the Old World in 
the production of the best glassware. It is true, 
his workmen were not always the most skillful. 
Sometimes they got the neck of a glass bottle far 
to one side, so that some of the old bottles resemble 
the modern nursing bottles ; but his more artistic 
work compares very favorably, as we have already 
seen in a former chapter, with the best of his day. 
Whatever may be said in criticism of any of the 
wares turned out in any of his industries, it must 
be remembered that manufactories in the New 
World, more than in the Old, were in their primi- 
16 


242 


BARON STlEGEE. 


tive state. It has required many years of careful 
work and earnest study to bring them to the present 
state of perfection. And the end is not yet ; what 
the past has accomplished becomes the pledge for 
the future. 

We have also seen that Stiegel during the most 
depressing times of the war made some money, and 
was able to meet the interest on his loans promptly. 
Everyone who paid any attention to Stiegel’s stand- 
ing in the business world believed that he had safely 
outlived the crisis which at the opening of the war 
threatened to overwhelm him. In all the history 
of our land the times immediately following a war 
were epochs of financial and commercial develop- 
ment. The War of the Revolution alone is an ex- 
ception. The close of the struggle left the new 
nation in a woeful state of exhaustion. Commerce, 
trade, and almost every kind of business came to a 
stand. The union between the colonies during the 
war, after the establishment of peace, threatened to 
be a rope of sand. This state of affairs continued 
for some years. The nation seemed as a newly 
born giant whose very life hung in the balances. 
Everyone believed in the great possibilities of the 
infant, provided he could rally from his birth throes. 

We have thus dwelt at length upon the general 
condition of affairs at the close of the war, because 


IMPORTANT EVENTS. 


243 


we believe that it will help us to account for the 
events which came to pass in the lives of those in 
whom these pages are specially interested. If it be 
true that “ The making of friends, who are real 
friends, is the best token we have of a man’s suc- 
cess in life,” then these closing years in the events 
of the man’s life in which we are interested were 
not without their successes as well as their losses. 


CHAPTER XXII. 


IN PRISON. 

Our last chapter described the condition of the 
country in general. The condition of individuals 
makes up the public weal or woe. Because of the 
general stagnation in business for the first few 
years following the close of the war, the iron in- 
dustry, which was Stiegel’s chief source of income, 
was paralyzed. The patriots who had fought in 
the Revolution were paid off with scrip, which, in 
the unsettled state of political affairs, was little bet- 
ter than the paper upon which it was printed. 
However much these men, as they returned to their 
farms, may have desired to furnish themselves with 
the best utensils for the house, the garden, and the 
field, they had not the means to purchase them. 
This was the cause of the stagnation in the iron 
industry. 

Stiegel, for a whole year before the articles of 
peace were drawn up, realized that this would be 
the state of affairs, so he did all in his power to 
retrench ; but with it all, he foresaw that another 
loan would be necessary to tide him safely over the 

(244) 


IN PRISON. 


245 


crisis. He therefore advertised for another large 
sum of money. He had made a fatal mistake in his 
former loans in that he pledged his entire property 
as security for the same. There was little money 
in the country at the time, and what there was 
could only be obtained on first-class security. As a 
consequence of Stiegel’s previous injudicious bor- 
rowing, there was no one who was willing to ad- 
vance any money upon the security offered. 

The time for the payment of the interest on the 
loans he had already contracted was rapidly ap- 
proaching, but there were no funds to pay. Stiegel 
was in despair. He made one last appeal to his 
friends. Confucious, the Chinese savant, says : 
“There are three friendships which are advan- 
tageous, and three which are injurious : Friend- 
ship with the upright ; friendship with the sincere ; 
and friendship with the man of observation ; these 
are advantageous. Friendship with the man of 
specious airs ; friendship with the insinuatingly 
soft ; and friendship with the glib-tongued ; these 
are injurious.” Stiegel had made few friends out 
of the three latter classes ; he had many friends 
among the three former ; but because a man is up- 
right and sincere, and because he is a man of keen 
observation, is not a proof that he can be a deliverer 
in times of financial distress. It is true Stiegel had 


246 


BARON STIEGEL. 


friends who had large sums of money at their com- 
mand in former times ; but now every man felt the 
pinches of poverty. Many of his friends, like him- 
self, were property poor. They had purchased 
large tracts of land at nominal prices ; but now that 
taxes were heavy, and there was little or no income 
from this land, their possessions proved a millstone 
about their neck, dragging them into the depths of 
financial ruin. 

Stiegel’s friends of “specious airs” now kept 
aloof from the man to whom they never were a 
help, and to whose distress they could only add, 
now that the star of his destiny seemed to be hover- 
ing on the verge of the horizon. But there were 
friends who, although they could not avert finan- 
cial disaster, stood true as steel in those trying 
days. Their words of sympathy and little acts of 
kindness were more precious than silver or gold. 
Happy is the man whose friendships are born of 
God. Neither time nor circumstances can cause 
them to wane. Death itself cannot rob us of them. 
They embody in themselves an ever-widening trust 
and increasing faith, enduring love and patience. 
Stiegel had many such friends. For these he was 
profoundly grateful to heaven. But, on the other 
hand, he had some of those friends who, when the 
sun of prosperity shines, flatter and caress, but, when 


IN PRISON. 


247 


adversity brings darkness and gloom, slap in the face 
those whom they formerly caressed ; because they 
fancy they are concealed or the injured are impo- 
tent to resent their meanness and their disloyalty. 
These friends did not scruple to injure his reputa- 
tion. His character they could not injure. No 
man can injure another’s character, though he tear 
to tatters his reputation. 

Try as best he could, Stiegel found it impossible 
to raise money sufficient to pay the interest on his 
loan. Fritz, his old enemy, knew that such was 
the case. He rubbed his palms with glee as he 
thought how he could bring the proud Baron on his 
knees. Notice was served several weeks before the 
interest was due. It was right that this should be 
done, but, when the money was not forthcoming on 
the day it was due, Fritz & Company’s attorney at 
once proceeded to collect according to law. Men 
who were the true friends of Stiegel wrote letters 
to the attorney to extend the time for the payment 
of the interest ; but the attorney told them that he 
was instructed to push the case at once. There was 
but one thing for him to do, and that was to follow 
the instructions of his clients. He knew Stiegel, 
and, if he had followed his own inclination, it would 
have been different. 

The people of Lancaster and the entire commu- 


243 


BARON STIEGEE. 


nity in which the Baron moved were startled, there- 
fore, when they saw big posters describing the real 
estate of Stiegel, and announcing the fact that on a 
certain day all would be offered at sheriff’s sale for the 
satisfying of certain loans and the interest thereon 
accruing. All who read the advertisement mar- 
veled that all of Stiegel’s real estate was minutely 
described. There could be no mistaking the fact, 
Stiegel had evidently given all his property in 
securing his creditors. The creditors were unknown 
in the community. People wondered how it hap- 
pened that men doing business hundreds of miles 
away should be Stiegel’s creditors. 

When at last the day of sale arrived there were 
few to bid except those who had made the loan. 
They became the purchasers at their own price of 
property that was worth many times the amount of 
the loan. Stiegel had done his utmost to secure 
someone to buy the property and satisfy the loan, 
but it was all in vain. Everybody was poverty- 
stricken so far as ready money was concerned, 
although many owned much real estate. The 
Baron did not attend the sale. He had friends who 
tried to look after his interests, but, having little 
money, they bought sparingly. Thus it was that 
the richest man in the community became poor in 
one hour. 


IN PRISON. 


249 


We have already intimated that Stiegel was not 
the only man who in those times proved the fickle- 
ness of fortune. Another noted example was the 
distinguished Robert Morris, who at one time was 
the wealthiest man in America. He was one of the 
signers of the Declaration of Independence, a mem- 
ber of Congress, and one of the most honored of 
men. He, by his own personal effort and by giving 
his own securities for $50,000.00, which amount 
was due the starving men whose term of enlistment 
had expired, kept the war from coming to a stand- 
still and failure during the dark days of 1777. This 
same patriot knew, toward the close of his life, the 
direst want. He was thrown into prison because 
he could not pay his debts, and kept there as long 
as the law permitted. In deepest distress he wrote 
to a friend : “I have no money to buy bread for my 
family.’’ We dwell upon this incident to show that 
reverses of fortune in those days befell those who 
stood high in the estimation of the public. Though 
poverty in those times was attended by sorer trials 
than fall to the lot of the poor, ordinarily, in our 
day, there was not that systematic charity and be- 
nevolence which in our day delivers the worthy 
poor from the pangs of hunger. Many a poor man 
languished in prison because he could not pay his 
debts to his fellow-man until, instead of paying the 


250 


BARON STIEGEL. 


debt to man, he paid the debt to nature, and in 
many cases became free forever. 

May it not have been in some cases the Master’s 
way of calling the sufferer to a sense of his de- 
pendence upon God, instead of upon his wealth, for 
the best that this life can give? We do not posi- 
tively affirm that this was the case with Stiegel, but 
we do assert that the failure which brought him to 
the feet of his creditors brought him to a more 
lowly and consecrated life in his L,ord. 

After the sheriff’s sale, some of Stiegel’s friends 
bought a portion of his property in their own name 
from his unsuspecting creditor. Having thus made 
themselves master of the Elizabeth Furnaces, they 
gave them into Stiegel’s management. He worked 
with his old-time vigor ; and, with the coming of 
better times, he was able to pay his floating indebt- 
edness until but little remained unpaid ; but his 
sworn enemy, who watched him closely in his 
manful struggles to recover himself, alarmed those 
whom he still owed, and, perhaps, paid them to 
push Stiegel at a time when his friends could do 
no more for him, and the Baron was cast into 
prison. 

In those days the horrors of prison life were 
more awful than anything that befalls the worst of 
criminals now. The murderer and the felon were 


IN PRISON. 


25 1 


huddled together in the common pen with the pris- 
oner for debt, who, as we have already seen, often 
was the noblest of men. So soon as a new victim 
arrived he was set upon by the whole gang of half- 
starved wretches, who robbed him of everything 
valuable he possessed. It is true that the soul is 
its own place and can make a heaven out of hell, 
but we can readily understand that the pure soul of 
Stiegel would feel the indignity of prison life most 
keenly, and shrink with horror from the compan- 
ionship of men so vile as were some of the inmates 
of the Lancaster prison at that time. It is impos- 
sible for anyone who has not had his experience to 
appreciate his feelings in those long, long days and 
nights of horror, when it must have seemed to him 
that he was not only forsaken by his friends, but 
by his heavenly Father also. 

No one can solve the deep riddles of this life ; 
no one can fathom the mysteries of divine Provi- 
dence. “ How unsearchable are His judgments, 
and His ways past finding out!” But we must 
not forget that He has assured us that “ All things 
work together for good to them that love God.” 
We must not for one moment believe that God de- 
lights in the affliction of any of His children ; but 
He does permit affliction to come to teach His 
people the vanity of all earthly things. They be- 


BARON STIEGEE. 


252 

come His refining fire through which He burns 
away the dross and causes the gold to shine in all 
its splendor. When the soul yields itself to the 
gracious influences of the Spirit it soars to heights 
that it could never have attained when it was 
clogged by the weights which the world is so ready 
to fasten upon God’s children. No wonder that 
Christ prayed for His disciples that the Father 
should keep them from evil. 

It is said that once upon a time a great prince 
built a magnificent cathedral. The tower was 
specially constructed for the accommodation of a 
beautiful chime of bells. The bells were cast by 
men who understood their business, and, when they 
were ready, they were hung, with the utmost care, 
in the great belfry. The most skilfull operator in 
the kingdom was secured to play the chime, morn- 
ing and evening, every day in the year and oftener 
on the Sabbath. The bells were not played upon 
until the day of dedication of the cathedral arrived. 
Then the artist took his place and began to play 
majestic music, but the brazen tongues gave forth 
only discordant sounds. Again and again he tried, 
but the result was always the same. Other masters 
were summoned, but with no better effect. At 
length, in despair, the bells were permitted to hang 
in silence in the great tower. 


IN PRISON. 


253 


One day, years after the dedication, a great thun- 
der-storm passed over the city. When the storm 
was at its height a flash of lightning struck the 
tower, and for a moment the bells became a halo of 
glory to the cathedral, as the lightning flashed from 
their metallic sides. At the same time the people 
of the city heard one peal of music. 

The next day the old artist was summoned from 
his retirement. Once more he tried the unused 
levers. As he pressed now one and another the 
bells sent forth the most delicious and mellowed 
strains. Ever since they send forth their rich music 
over the city and the surrounding country. The 
refining fires of heaven attuned them to heaven’s 
music. 

So, in this sin-cursed earth, affliction seems neces- 
sary, and, above all, the refining fire of the Holy 
Ghost, before man will reflect the image of his 
Maker, and his life give forth its richest harmonies. 
We believe that God overrules the devil’s efforts to 
destroy Christ’s followers, to their best and lasting 
benefit. 

“ The love of money is a root of all kinds of 
evil,” and “ They that desire to be rich fall into a 
temptation and a snare and many foolish and hurt- 
ful lusts, such as drown men in destruction and 
perdition” (1 Tim. vi. 10, 9). Someone has said, 


254 BARON STIEGEE. 

one can tell what God thinks of riches from the 
kind of people to whom He gives them. It is 
true that it is hard for a rich man to enter the 
kingdom of heaven, but it is also true that Christ 
and His cause have had some of their best and most 
devoted friends among the rich. God does not de- 
sire any of His children to become the servants of 
their wealth. So soon as they do, they can no 
longer be His servants. But God does not delight 
in poverty. He shows His love for abundance in 
the profusion of the flowers, the multitude of the 
stars, the wonderful variety of grains and fruits, 
and even in the different kinds of minerals and 
precious stones. Want is artificial. Sin has caused 
poverty. God has abundance for everyone of His 
children, but sin and the devil prevent them for a 
little season from receiving what God will finally 
give them, for He has promised them that they 
“ Shall inherit the earth.” 

Some people must be deprived of their earthly 
possessions before they will go to God and ask Him 
for His grace, so that they may live closer to Him. 
Some of our most devout prayers have so much of 
the odor of the earth about them, because they 
implore for earthly things, and so can never become 
as incense before God. When we ask for purely 
spiritual gifts we become God’s dear children, and 


IN PRISON. 255 

come to Him as the child comes to its mother for 
the touch of her caressing hand and for the print 
of her loving kiss. Then it is that our prayers are 
gathered as incense into God’s golden censer for a 
sweet-smelling savor in heaven. 

Whatever unholy influence Stiegel’s wealth may 
have wielded over his spiritual life, it is certain 
now, that it was all gone, the long and weary days 
that he languished in prison showed him where he 
might have done better. All the years of his busy 
life he had tried to serve his Master and do good to 
his fellow-men ; now he was deprived of freedom, 
but not of the power to serve both his Master and 
his fellow-men. It is true he was restricted, but 
the bird in his cage can sing just as sweetly as 
when it sings from the green branches of the forest, 
and so Stiegel could do deeds of kindness in his 
prison which, in the sight of heaven, were just as 
acceptable as when he deeded lots upon which to 
erect churches, or gave largely for the buildings. 

At first Stiegel was held in contempt by his fel- 
low-prisoners, for the simple reason that they had 
learned that he was a Baron. He was made the 
butt of many a rude joke and the object of many a 
cruel word. But he showed no resentment. He sat 
for hours with his face concealed behind his shapely 
palms. Those who observed him saw his lips 


256 


BARON STIEGEE. 


move, and they knew that he was in prayer. His 
sad smiles and his aristocratic countenance, which 
daily became more pale and pinched, gave him an 
appearance such as the artist would seek for a 
model from which to sketch the picture of the 
saint. Visitors came now and then from the city 
itself, but more frequently from the neighborhood 
where once he had been the prosperous and benev- 
olent Baron. They brought him many necessities, 
some luxuries. Their kind words, more than their 
gifts, did much to soothe his aching heart. 

In the Tower in London a distinguished prisoner, 
more than three hundred years ago, scratched upon 
the walls of the room in which he was confined 
the significant words : “ The most unhappy man in 
the world is he that is not patient in adversities ; 
for men are not killed with the adversities they 
have, but with the impatience they suffer.” Stiegel 
had been in the school of sorrow before he entered 
the prison, and so had learned patience, but pa- 
tience had not yet had her perfect work. Now she 
brought to his life the healing balm, the ointment 
for his wounded heart ; and so made his bondage 
the opening of the door which led him into a 
more perfect liberty than he knew even when men 
made obeisance to him and he was free to go where 
he pleased. 


IN PRISON. 


257 


There was one gentle minister in all his sorrow 
who hovered near the grim walls of his prison. 
Nawadaha, though she was compelled to leave the 
home which during all her life in America, with 
the exception of the years of her captivity, had 
been the centre around which her heart turned, 
never for a moment forgot the Baron who had 
shown her so many kindnesses. Lancaster became 
her home. She had learned many remedies for the 
ills to which mortal flesh is heir from the Indians ; 
and now that she was dependent upon her own 
resources, she concocted medicines for which she 
received more than enough to keep the wolf from 
her own door and to supply the prisoner, who was 
her dearest friend on earth, with all the necessities 
for his prison life. In fact, she was his ministering 
angel who presided over those dark days of his life 
in prison, robbing them of much of their gloom 
and sorrow. Twice a week the keeper permitted 
her to enter the abode of confinement. The other 
prisoners called her “Stiegel’s sunshine,” and when 
she came they respectfully left the two to them- 
selves in the large room of the prison. Her face 
was always cheerful. If her heart was sore with 
Stiegel’s trials, she always managed to keep the 
sunshine in her countenance. Often when she 
quit the prison and the great oaken door closed be- 
17 


BARON STIEGEE. 


258 

hind her, her long lashes could not restrain the 
tears that persisted to well from her eyes. 

Stiegel had brought his Bible with him to cheer 
his loneliness, and to teach him in the hours of his 
sorest trials. He thought that he knew its deep 
truths and their meaning ; but now that he was so 
much in prayer and asked so often for light, the 
old passages which he knew by heart, and which 
he had so often quoted for others, received a new 
meaning for his own soul. The pious music of its 
Psalms rippled so gently and so sweetly in his soul 
that it became the music of heaven. The plaintive 
strains of Job cheered his heart, because they 
taught him how a man may suffer though he be 
steadfast as a rock in his allegiance to his Lord. 
Too often the Bible had been to him as it is to so 
many Christians, a garden of spices in which one 
may walk and sniff here and there a fragrant odor ; 
but now it became to him a mine in which were 
all manner of precious stones, which are to be had 
by anyone who will take the pains to delve therein 
and dig for himself. 

You see, therefore, kind reader, that Stiegel had 
much for which to be thankful ; although, being 
thrust into prison, it seemed as if he had lost all. 
He had friends in the world, pre-eminent among 
whom was Nawadaha. He knew that no matter 


IN PRISON. 


259 


what might come, so long as she lived, he would 
not lack the friendship of her great heart. He had 
God’s Spirit to light his gloom and God’s Word 
to comfort and sustain him, and to be the avenue 
along which the Spirit could come and speak to 
his heart. He had opportunities for doing good. 
That life which has the power and inclination to 
minister to others can never be a lonely life. And 
so with all these gifts from his kind heavenly 
Father, and many others, such as health, and food, 
and raiment, we must leave him at the close of this 
chapter, a tenant of a prison, the associate, but not 
the accomplice, of criminals. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


DELIVERANCE. 

WE have seen how Fritz and his brothers be- 
came the possessors of what Stiegel had inherited 
and of what he had accumulated in all the years of 
his business career. In the sight of the law of man 
he was the legitimate owner; but in the sight of God 
he was not treating his brother man justly. He was 
not obeying Christ’s rule, “As ye would that men 
should do unto you do ye even so unto them.” He 
might have given Stiegel a competence for life 
and still have secured with usury all that he had 
loaned, but Fritz was the last man from whom 
this could be expected, and would have been the 
last of the race to acknowledge it. 

We have seen that from the time he met Stiegel 
in the New World, he determined to ruin him. 
For many years he had no idea that he could ruin 
him financially ; but he felt that he must in some 
way rob him of happiness, even if it were necessary 
to take his life. 

We heard recently of a man who was exploring 
a little cave in New Mexico. The most he hoped 
(260) 


DELIVERANCE. 


261 


to find in reward for his research was a bone or 
trinket of some ancient people, but, as he carefully 
crept into the utmost recesses with his torch or 
lantern in hand, the supposed rocky bed beneath 
him suddenly gave way and he was precipitated 
into a much larger cavern, some feet beneath the 
one in which he had been. There, to his surprise, 
he found the ruins of an old idolatrous temple, 
lamps, altars, and many other relics of a prehistoric 
people. He became the possessor of more than he 
could have hoped for when he entered the upper 
cave ; but, after all, it was only that which the pre- 
historic people could own only for a little time. 
They had been compelled to abandon it all long 
centuries before. So Fritz, searching for a means 
of injuring another, suddenly found more than he 
had hoped ; but although he thus enriched himself 
and gratified his revenge, we know that he could 
possess this property, which in God’s sight he held 
unjustly, only for a little while. Stiegel was com- 
pelled to abandon his possessions before he went 
into the eternal world; Fritz was compelled to 
give them up with the departure from this life. 
Eternity alone will declare how much better it was 
for Stiegel to be stripped of all his earthly possessions, 
and how much worse it was for Fritz to get them. 

Fritz was still in the old business of Indian 


BARON STIEGEL,. 


262 

trader when he and his brothers became the pos- 
sessors of the Stiegel estates. Fritz enjoyed this 
rather wild life. It gave him so many opportuni- 
ties for the gratification of his depraved appetites ; 
although he never became a drunkard. He drank 
less now than ever before, largely because he felt 
that no drunkard can hold on to a fortune any 
more than he can make one ; but, because drunken- 
ness is a sin, would, in itself, never have caused 
Fritz to live a sober life. 

For a long time Fritz gave himself no concern 
about Stiegel. He had learned that his minor 
creditors had put him in jail because he could not 
pay them what he owed, and so Fritz felt satisfied 
that he would finally die in jail, the very fate to 
which Stiegel’s testimony so justly consigned Fritz 
some years before, and from which he freed himself 
as by a miracle. Whenever he spoke of his escape 
to his brothers he always extolled his bravery and 
skill, and added Schiller’s quotation from William 
Tell, “ Was etwas werden will das uebt sich frie ” 
(he who would become of consequence makes early 
effort). A poetic truth may be true of the devil as 
well as of a saint in light. We know that our 
readers are able to judge, from what they have 
learned of Fritz, to which personage he bore the 
more striking resemblance. 


DELIVERANCE. 


263 


As the months of Stiegel’s imprisonment slowly 
lengthened into the first year, Fritz became dis- 
satisfied with the measure of success he had already 
attained in making Stiegel wretched, so he began 
to send him frequent, sarcastic, and insulting letters. 
Stiegel at first read these letters and felt their sting, 
but, when once he had learned to know the hand 
that wrote them, he consigned them to the flames 
unopened. These letters were no longer unsigned 
as those had been which he sent to Elizabeth, but 
every one of them breathed the soul of venom. 

We have seen how Nawadaha, without a murmur, 
left her home at the Furnaces and established her- 
self in the town of Eancaster. She now began to 
look upon her captivity with the Indians as one of 
those mysterious and painful dispensations which, 
in the end, yield a rich return, and thus unmistak- 
ably prove that God’s hand is in them. She used 
to say : “ The very reason we see in this life already 
that those things which we considered void of all 
good were really for the best is a sure proof that, 
when we get to the other shore, we will be con- 
vinced that God was constantly doing all things for 
our good. When He fails, it is because we cast hin- 
drances in His way.” 

She believed that Providence had permitted 
Stiegel to be stripped of his property in order that 


264 


BARON STIEGEE. 


he might fit him for a special place in the life to 
come. Her coming to Lancaster for the purpose 
of selling her medicines she considered as the lead- 
ing of God’s hand in order that she might better 
minister to Stiegel in the long and painful prepara- 
tion he was undergoing for the place God wished 
him to occupy. 

One Saturday evening the girl who attended to 
business in her little drug-store, when Nawadaha 
was out, came into the sitting-room, saying that a 
well-dressed gentleman was in the store inquiring 
for her. He did not send his name, but wished to 
see Nawadaha on special business. Nawadaha en- 
tered as soon as she could, and, although Fritz had 
laid aside his garb of hunter and frontiersman and 
had a powdered wig and great silver buckles on his 
shoes, a “ swallow-tail ” coat with great brass but- 
tons, Nawadaha felt a little shiver pass through her 
frame as she recognized who it was that stood before 
her. 

Fritz made her a profound bow as she entered, 
and extended his hand in friendly salutation. The 
woman allowed him to grasp her hand, but quickly 
withdrew it, then looked him full in the face, as 
she asked him how she might serve him. 

Fritz said that he was perfectly well, and that he 
had simply called to look into her honest face and 


DELIVERANCE. 


265 


express his gratification that she had at length 
passed from under the power of the man Stiegel. 

Nawadaha replied that she had never been in the 
power of Stiegel, as he chose to term Stiegel’s 
friendship for her. That she thought as much of 
the Baron as she had ever done, and that she 
would not allow anyone to speak disrespectfully of 
him, now that she knew that he needed a true 
friend. She considered it unwomanly to cast away 
a sincere friend simply because his life was clouded 
with the shadow of a great calamity. 

Fritz shrugged his shoulders, and said : “ Oh, 
come now. Do not think that I would rob Stiegel 
of your or anyone’s friendship. He needs all the 
friends he can get or he will rot in prison. You re- 
member the offer I made you when last I saw you 
in the forest ? That offer I have come to renew. 
It remains for you to say whether you will be a 
lady for the rest of your life or whether you will be 
the paramour of a jail-bird.” 

Nawadaha’s eyes flashed as she stepped forth 
from behind the counter, and, seizing a weight with 
which she was in the habit of weighing herbs, she 
hurled it at the thick head of her would-be lover. 
He dodged the missile, and it passed through one of 
the little window panes in her door, out into the 
street. The jingle of breaking glass attracted the 


266 


BARON STIEGEE. 


attention of a passer-by, who came to see what had 
caused the trouble. It was fortunate that the new- 
comer was a friend of Nawadaha, for she had fre- 
quently ministered in his family. He therefore 
advised Fritz to leave, or he would see that he 
would be promptly arrested. 

Fritz was thoroughly mad by this time. He told 
the man that he would yet be compelled to apolo- 
gize to him in person ; for he little knew that he 
was speaking to a nobleman. Then, turning to 
Nawadaha, he said : “ Depend upon it, you will yet 
be humbled. I will see to it that you will rot in 
jail, but not at the side of the beggar to whom you 
are so devoted. You must remember you were in 
my power before this, and the time will come when 
you will be crushed by these very hands which a 
few moments ago offered you a home and a shelter.” 

Nawadaha was too indignant to listen to the man 
who had insulted her. She swept into the house 
and closed the door behind her. This was the last 
visit she ever had from the man who had threatened 
to take her life if she did not do his bidding, when 
he looked upon her as a helpless captive in the 
forest. 

Fritz came to Lancaster with the intention of 
making that place his home. He saw what others 
well knew, that he was a man of wealth, now that 


DELIVERANCE. 


267 


he was part owner of the Stiegel estate. It was 
not long after his interview that he purchased one 
of the most commodious dwellings in the town and 
furnished it. At the same time he opened a store 
in which he offered very much the same articles 
that he had been selling on the frontier. He was a 
frequent visitor at the Furnaces, which were man- 
aged by his brothers, who now also occupied the 
stone house. 

So the months passed on. Stiegel still lan- 
guished in prison ; but the faithful Nawadaha never 
relaxed any effort which looked toward his libera- 
tion. At times it seemed as if she were the only 
person in all the world who thought of Stiegel at 
all. He might as well have been dead as alive, so 
far as most of the people who had once fed on his 
bounty were concerned. The visits of the people 
in the country became less and less frequent. 
Stiegel would have starved and become the prey of 
the prison vermin had it not been for the unselfish 
ministrations of Nawadaha. The narrow little 
room, which she managed to retain for his private 
accommodations, had one little window through 
which Stiegel could look out into the world and 
see the changes that were constantly taking place 
in the now rapidly growing town of Lancaster. 
Through it, when the days were bright, he could 


268 


BARON STIEGEL. 


hear the songs of the birds and catch the deeper 
tones of the church-bell as it, every Sabbath, sum- 
moned the people to worship. At night, for nine 
long months in the year, he could see for a few 
hours a bright star twinkling far away in the sky. 
It seemed to Stiegel that the star must know his 
strange, sad history, for at times it became almost 
invisible to his dim eyes, as if it averted its face in 
pity ; then again it glistened and glowed as if indig- 
nant at his cruel fate. Of course, Stiegel knew 
that he only imagined all this ; but then it was 
such a comfort to think that the God who made the 
stars was mindful of him, and knew his sad heart. 

In the days of his prison life he thought fre- 
quently of Martin Luther, who was compelled to 
hide away from his enemies for a whole year. He 
recalled the prodigious work the great Reformer 
accomplished during the months of his banishment, 
and Stiegel tried to emulate the man whom he had 
always considered the greatest since the days of the 
apostles. He realized that there were no Scriptures 
for him to translate, but he spent much of his time 
in writing the prayers which were the petitions of 
his soul to his God. Some of these prayers are still 
extant, and show his deep piety, and the depth of 
his mental anguish because of his disgrace and 
poverty. 


DELIVERANCE. 


269 


He knew, too, that Bunyan, who was more akin 
to Stiegel than the great Reformer, although he 
was of a different nationality, had immortalized 
himself by what he wrote during his confinement. 
The more he thought the more he felt that God had 
some work for him, and that it was to be a different 
work from any he had as yet done, else he would 
not have allowed him to come to the dreadful 
prison. He felt, too, that if he would cleave closely 
to his L,ord, who had endured so much for him at 
the hands of grossest injustice, he would best find 
that work, whatever it might be. And thus it was 
that, as the days passed on, Stiegel became more 
Christ-like, and thus better fitted for the place 
Nawadaha felt so sure he was to occupy in God’s 
eternal kingdom. 

Just as the sculptor causes the marble block to be 
taken out of its native place and has it brought to 
his studio, where it is subject to the sharp chisel and 
the strokes of the heavy maul until it is entirely 
transformed, so God has brought many precious 
lives from their surroundings and has subjected 
them to the severest trials until they become new 
creatures in Christ Jesus. After all, the marble 
will only be a representation, but, in the grace of 
God, men become the saints in light, the heirs of 
immortal glory. 


2 JO 


BARON STIEGEE. 


Whilst Stiegel sat in the solitude of his prison, 
and his heart tried to solve the deep things of God 
and His ways with His wavering children, Nawa- 
daha was busy with many men and women, reliev- 
ing one of aches and pains and taking another into 
her confidence in her efforts to set at liberty the 
man who was her only real friend in the whole 
world. When spring came and Stiegel heard the 
song of the robin through his little window in the 
narrow room, his soul went out to the broad fields 
in the country where he knew the cattle were 
grazing. He saw in imagination the edges of the 
forest fringed with the deep green of the pasture 
fields, and the soft brown of the newly up-turned 
soil, and his heart yearned to be free. Death that 
spring mowed a deep swathe behind the stone wall 
where the sun of love so seldom beamed, and where 
hearts as well as hands shriveled for want of nour- 
ishment. The sorrow and suffering of others more 
helpless and friendless than himself caused him to 
forget his own trials. So the days sped along, 
though, with the exception of the bright sun with- 
out and the occasional breeze ladened with the per- 
fume of violets, it might as well have been bleak 
November, so far as the light and cheer of the sea- 
son were concerned in that gloomy stone prison. 
But Stiegel was busy with his ministrations, and 


DELIVERANCE. 


271 


saw more and more how God needed him to lead 
those who had been shipwrecked on life’s ocean 
into the snug harbor. More “ God bless you ” 
came to him from the lips of the dying than he had 
ever heard in all the life outside. Nawadaha, too, 
frequently came and brought others with her. 
Together they sang and read and prayed, and thus 
it was that many had been led to prison in order 
that they might be “ free indeed.” When she came 
she always brought food for the soul and body both. 
Thus it was that she became a ministering angel to 
all within the gloomy walls. 

All that summer, when at last the hand of death 
was stayed in the prison, Nawadaha was busy 
working for Stiegel’s freedom. She felt that if he 
would be compelled to remain in the dismal place 
another winter, it would be his last on earth. 
Friends began to flock to her help. Her devotion 
inspired them to help her. They realized that they 
could not pay Stiegel’s indebtedness, for it seemed 
that debtors sprung up in every quarter, when once 
it was thought that benevolent people would pay 
his debts. Finally she was advised to petition the 
Legislature, which was to meet in regular session. 
We cannot here produce the petition which was 
duly drawn up and signed by many who had known 
the Baron, and by some who were his friends. Just 


272 


BARON STIEGEL. 


as soon as Nawadaha had succeeded in getting the 
names of the most distinguished men in Lancaster 
and in Philadelphia, she had no trouble in getting 
others. It was not that these others wished Stiegel 
to be free, but that they wished the law-makers to 
understand that they were men of influence. At 
the head of the petition was the prayer of Stiegel 
petitioning the “ Honorable Body ” to set him 
free. The signers merely seconded the prayer of 
the distressed Baron. Finally the petition was 
sent, and nothing was heard of it for more than a 
month. Stiegel felt sure that they had heard the 
last ; Nawadaha feared he might be correct. Finally 
Nawadaha heard that there was every probability 
that it would be passed. She kept the glad news 
in her heart, simply telling Stiegel not to be dis- 
couraged. 

The life of summer had ebbed away. Once more 
the leaves were turning color and noiselessly flitting 
to the ground. Then the first snow fell, and the old 
men behind the cold stonewalls of the prison shivered 
before the scant fire on the great hearth. Stiegel 
sat among them. He was extremely pale. The 
hand with which he pulled his cloak about him 
shook as if palsied ; but it was neither cold nor 
weakness that caused his heart to tremble. The 
thought that the long, cold winter would find him 


DELIVERANCE. 2 73 

in the same place of wickedness nearly broke his 
really brave heart. 

Just two weeks from that night, the eve before 
Christmas, the night which commemorates the time 
when the angels sang, “ Glory to God in the 
highest and on earth peace to men of good-will,” 
and then disappeared in the unscarred heavens, 
leaving no wake of their shining presence, Stiegel 
was sitting before the fire as was his custom. All 
who had gathered there were silent. The thoughts 
of some went back to the days of their childhood, 
when in the Old World, the day of all days when 
their hearts were happiest, they sat at the Christmas 
board and ate and drank with those whom they 
knew they would see in this world no more. But 
of them all, no heart was so full of sad thoughts as 
Stiegel ’s. None in that company of disappointed 
lives had had such abundance as he ; none felt 
the anguish so keenly as he. Deeply beneath his 
silence the craters of sorrow threatened a shower of 
scalding tears. 

The little company of wretches heard the tinkle 
of the bell in the office, which was the signal that 
someone without had sounded the brass knocker 
and that the door leading to the street was about to 
be opened. It was unnecessary to close the door lead- 
ing to the outside entrance, for none of the wretches 
18 


274 


BARON STIEGEL. 


gathered about the open hearth would have escaped 
that cold winter night, even if it had been possible. 
Soon the prisoners heard the sound of voices. 
Stiegel in an instant recognized the voice of Nawa- 
daha. He rose from his broken, three-legged stool 
and approached the door leading to the hall, 
although he knew that it was locked. Scarcely 
had he gotten there before the bar was pushed back 
and Nawadaha stepped into the prison and seized 
Steigel by the hand, at the same time saying, 
“ Baron, at last you are free.” 

Stiegel, with a voice trembling with emotion, 
exclaimed, “ Praise the Lord, oh my soul, and for- 
get not all His benefits.” Then, taking Nawadaha 
in his arms, he imprinted a kiss upon her forehead, 
as he had done years before when he received her 
into freedom. 

It took only a few moments until Stiegel was 
wrapped in the new mantle which those with Nawa- 
daha had brought, and, with a pair of new, strong 
shoes on his feet, he bade his fellow-prisoners adieu. 
He went out from his incarceration of more than 
two years as happy as a child. Those who remained 
in prison were not forgotten by those who had 
opened the door for Stiegel. Nawadaha brought 
with her many little tokens of the season, and thus 
those who remained were happy in their way. 


DELIVERANCE. 


275 


Stiegel was taken to the house of a friend who had 
seconded every effort of Nawadaha for his release. 
Here we will leave him for the present. For the 
first time in all his life, he knew the sweets of 
liberty because he had been so long a captive. 


I 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


A PREACHER. 

STIEGEE had spent many a happy Christmas 
during his life of more than fifty years, but in all 
his life he was never so happy. The friend who 
took him to his home told him to give himself no 
concern for the future. In his commodious home 
he had all the comforts the times afforded. What 
is more, on that Christmas day the sun shone from 
an unclouded sky. Its light and cheer came to 
Stiegel as a messenger from heaven to specially 
cheer and comfort his soul on this the gladdest 
day of the year. For nearly two years he had only 
seen a single beam of its light creep day by day 
through the narrow window in his room and slowly 
trace a shining path across the floor. 

That day a number of Stiegel’s friends came to 
the house in which he was staying. Nawadaha 
was there, and after the Christmas feast was over 
she sang in her clear tones, with closed eyes, the 
sweet Christmas carols she had learned m the home- 
(276) 


A PREACHER. 


277 


land. The tears rained silently from every eye as 
the rich tones of her voice warbled forth music 
sweet as if an angel sang. The memory, aided by 
the song, went to the scenes of childhood, and 
then, realizing how short and hasty our lives are, 
awoke the nobler faculties of the soul, kindling 
hope and strengthening faith. 

During that day Stiegel also made up his mind 
that there remained a work for him ; and that the 
prison doors had been opened in the providence of 
God at the most opportune time. He learned that 
a pastor was needed at Brickerville, in the very 
church to which his heart was bound by many ten- 
der associations. For in it he had wed his Eliza- 
beth. In it he had shared in the last solemn ser- 
vice to her memory, and in the adjoining “ God’s- 
acre ” she lay sleeping, awaiting the resurrection 
morn. How his heart had often yearned to stand 
in the church once more and to engage in one 
service before he died. Now that he had the oppor- 
tunity to become the pastor of the congregation 
which worshiped in that very church made his 
heart overflow with gratitude. It made him trem- 
blingly eager to know positively whether he really 
could become the pastor of that church, and that, 
too, when he was inclined to think that there was 
nothing for him to do but live on the bounty of his 


278 BARON STIEGEI,. 

friends until the Master should call him to the 
marriage supper of the Lamb. 

It must be borne in mind that in the early days 
of the Lutheran Church in America preachers were 
not as plentiful as they are to-day. For many 
years our Lutheran congregations depended en- 
tirely upon Germany for their pastors. Some of 
the great denominations established colleges very 
early ; but the Lutherans were slow in founding 
educational institutions. The Theological Semi- 
nary at Gettysburg was not established until 1826. 
A classical school was begun in the same place in 
June, 1827. I n I ^ 3 2 a charter was granted, and 
the Gettysburg Gymnasium became Pennsylvania 
College. Yale College was founded in 1701, and 
had done much for the churches of New England 
during a century and a quarter before the Luther- 
ans of the New World did much for the education 
of their people or hoped for a native ministry. It 
is impossible to calculate the loss sustained because 
of this neglect. Our Church continued to be a 
foreign church long after her members, or at least 
the majority of them, ceased to be foreign. A sup- 
ply of foreign preachers kept the church to foreign 
or at least to un-American ways. When a preacher 
was needed congregations were kept waiting many 
weary months before one could be furnished. This 


A PREACHER. 


279 


accounts for the fact that Stiegel could become the 
pastor of the people among whom he had once 
worshiped. 

After a time the lack of ministers in this country 
was supplied by pastors themselves, who searched 
out promising young men in their congregations 
and educated them in their own studies. However 
much this may have done for the young men and 
for the churches, the system had in it much that is 
objectionable. In those days young men who were 
just entering the ministry were regarded with sus- 
picion. Quite the contrary is true in our day. 
Old men, that is, men of experience and piety as 
well, are set aside for no palpable reason whatever 
than that a young man is more acceptable. We do 
not say this as an argument against our present 
system of education, but as one of the lamentable 
signs of the time. 

Stiegel was ready to enter upon his new calling 
just as soon as his friends would allow him. To 
them it was quite evident that he had suffered 
much during his confinement, and that he was by 
no means ready to enter upon his arduous work as 
preacher and teacher. There are those who think 
the work of the minister of Christ an easy work ; 
but it is because they know nothing of its cares, 
its labors, and its responsibilities. The physical 


28 o 


BARON STIEGER. 


endurance necessary in the work of the ministry is 
by no means to be undervalued. Even in the city, 
the pastor must be able to go out in all kinds of 
weather, preach in rooms crowded with people and 
illy ventilated. He is exposed to drafts and to suf- 
focating and stifling atmosphere. In the country 
it is even worse. There he must be out whole 
days, in heat and cold. Then, too, the nervous 
strain that is constantly upon him as he stands be- 
fore his people, is enough to sap his physical vigor. 

The mental and spiritual preparation necessary 
every week is such as no man in any other profes- 
sion endures. Twice every week, at least, in our 
cities, the preacher must address the same people 
on some phase of spiritual truth. They come be- 
fore him from every station in life, and every 
degree of worldliness, and he is expected not only 
to kindle the flame of devotion upon the altars of 
their hearts, but also to interest and instruct them 
mentally as well as spiritually. He may have en- 
tered upon his work as does the lawyer or lecturer, 
but, if so, the people will soon look upon him as 
they would upon a skeleton holding aloft in his icy 
hand a lamp by whose light he does not walk. 

It is a question with some whether, in our day, 
the young men who are offered free tuition, free 
sustenance, during a long course of study, in order 


A PREACHER. 


28l 


that they may be able to enter the ministry, are 
always the very best material for the high and holy 
office. It cannot be denied, however, that some of 
the most efficient men in the Gospel ministry en- 
tered by this very door. 

Stiegel had received his mental preparation in 
the schools of the Old World. He had been 
through the gymnasium and the university, and 
was well educated in the languages and in the 
sciences, so far as the sciences were known at that 
day. His long career as a business man was also 
an excellent qualification for his work ; but the 
most important preparation he had received in the 
jail at Lancaster. There he had been taught the 
vanity of all earthly things. His heart had gone 
out in unutterable longing after something satisfy- 
ing and permanent. His first deep religious expe- 
rience he had received when he believed his death 
imminent, and the divine life implanted in his heart 
that night, when an Indian captive, had taken root 
and grown ; but at times the gains and the losses, 
the pleasures and the crosses, of his life threatened 
to destroy the work of the Holy Spirit. But it 
was entirely different when he lost his property and 
most of the friends in whom he had trusted. He 
then dedicated his life to his Master, determined 
that he would spend his remaining days in trying 


282 


BARON STIEGEL. 


to win souls for the Master. We say, therefore, 
that Stiegel’s preparation was thorough. He had 
learned the vanity of all earthly things, and he had 
acquired the deep spiritual truths of God’s Word. 

We must not forget to call attention to his edu- 
cation in the parochial school of his native Ger- 
many. There he had learned the commandments, 
the creed, and “ the order of salvation,” and he never 
forgot them. There are those who depreciate the 
value of catechetical instruction and emphasize 
“experimental religion,” but without knowledge 
of God’s Word the Spirit can do but little for the 
salvation of a soul. The wisest of men has said, 
“ Train up a child in the way he should go, and 
when he is old he will not depart therefrom.” 

At length Stiegel had recuperated sufficiently, 
in the estimation of his friends, to enter upon his 
work at Brickerville. The community in which 
Stiegel had moved for years knew of his coming. 
They knew, too, that he had been in prison, but 
they knew, also that his character was pure. He 
had been the associate of thieves, but not their 
companion. He had been with murderers, but he 
had not stained so much as his finger with any 
man’s blood. The purest gold may be carried by 
the thief for years, but it still remains pure gold. 
So it had been with Stiegel. The gold of his being 


A PREACHER. 


283 


had been enhanced instead of depreciated, and so 
the people gathered in great numbers to hear the 
Word from his lips. They had heard him before ; 
in the days of his prosperity he had spoken to them 
of the necessity of a pure, moral life. He had 
spoken to them of the majesty of God and of His 
great wisdom. Their minds had often been dazed 
by his erudition, and so they wondered what he 
would say to them on this cold February morning. 
Would he discourse to them of the hoar-frost, gray 
as ashes, of the snow, like wool, and of the purity 
of the God who made them ? 

They did not long wonder what he would say. 
They saw him first as he slowly, and it seemed 
almost painfully, advanced from the door to the 
chancel. His blue eyes were swimming in tears as 
he looked out over the assemblage of his neighbors 
and former wokmen. When he read to them from 
the fifth chapter of 1 John, his voice trembled with 
emotion. When he prayed, he seemed to offer the 
petition which each soul had felt and known, but 
which none had so well expressed to his heavenly 
Father. He seemed to look into every heart, and 
gather together into one mighty heap all the cares 
and sorrows and heartaches and longings of his 
people, and then to roll them all upon the ready 
shoulders of Jesus. At last he stood before them 


284 


BARON STIEGEE. 


in the little goblet-like pulpit far above their heads. 
In tones trembling with emotion he said, “ Who is 
he that overcometh the world but he that believeth 
that Jesus is the Son of God?” His theme was 
victory over the strongest foe, and how it is obtained. 
As he showed how this foe, the world, entrenches 
itself in every apartment of the soul, and tries to 
drive out love, joy, and worship, and tries to fill its 
chambers with earthly and material things, they 
realized that he was speaking of what had once 
been his own experience. When he showed how 
the Holy Spirit, the author of our faith, must strip 
us of all the earthly things in which we trust, before 
He can lead our souls through the green pastures 
of the hidden life, and slake our thirst with the 
still waters which flow from the eternal Word, his 
congregation also realized that he was given his 
own experience ; but at the same time he kindled 
in their own dissatisfied hearts and lives such a 
longing after God and heaven as they had never 
felt in all their life before. His words came burn- 
ing with the love of God from his heart and im- 
bedded themselves in the hearts of his hearers. 

When he was done, the sighing and wxeping 
which his appeal to his hearers had evoked con- 
tinued for some minutes. After the benediction, 
many came and wrung his hands, thanking him for 


A PREACHER. 


285 


the message. One old mother said that, like John, 
it was necessary for him to be banished from his 
associates in order that he might have a vision of 
God and heaven. All resolved that by the help of 
God they would leave their dull, worldly pursuits 
of happiness and set their affections on things above. 

We need not dwell upon the services which 
Stiegel conducted Sabbath after Sabbath in the 
church at Brickerville and elsewhere. Many souls 
were added to the church, and those who were in 
the church before Stiegel came were built up in 
the faith. Those were happy days for the Baron. 
He lived in quiet contentment in the parsonage 
which his own funds had built in his better days, 
and which was his home now, simply because it 
was not his property. Like bread cast upon the 
waters, this home had come back to him at least 
for a season, when otherwise he would not have 
had where to lay his head. It is true he had a 
small income. He had but one servant — an aged 
woman — who was his cook, his chambermaid, and 
general servant. He was his own hostler. No 
cannon now boomed at his approach. No out- 
riders were necessary to clear the way before him 
as in the olden time. 

Once Stiegel would have scorned this humble 
life, but now the very heavens seemed bluer and 


286 


BARON STlEGEly. 


the stars shone brighter than they did before his ban- 
ishment from the scenes which he had looked upon 
with contempt rather than with gratitude and ad- 
miration, simply because they were so familiar to 
him. Neither was it a question with him now 
what he made in dollars and cents, but the all- 
absorbing thought was what he did for those around 
him, to make their world brighter and better. 

It is true, his audiences were not always inspir- 
ing, either because of their size or their intelligence, 
but that was not his incentive to the preaching of 
the Word. His only ambition was to convert the 
sinner from the error of his ways and to build up 
the saint in the faith. From time to time he felt 
that he was not failing either as to the first or the 
second desire of his heart. Furthermore, he be- 
lieved the Spirit, when He says, “ My Word shall 
not return unto Me void, but shall accomplish that 
which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing 
whereto I send it.” 

It is said of a missionary among the lumbermen 
of the Northwest, that one day he felt strangely 
impelled to go and preach in what he believed to be 
a deserted camp. He went and found not a soul 
in sight ; but he preached nevertheless, addressing 
the empty air, as he supposed. Many months 
afterward he met a man along a mountain road, 


A PREACHER. 


287 

who, after passing him, called after him, saying, “ It 
seems to me I have seen you before.” Then after 
looking him over for a little he said, “ I remember 
now. I heard you preach when you thought no 
one was hearing you. What you said that day was 
the means of bringing me to Christ. Ever since 
my conversion I have been preaching to my fellow- 
workmen, and I have the satisfaction of knowing 
that many have given their hearts to God.” 

Eternity alone will reveal what every word 
spoken in the Master’s name has or will accomplish. 
By the help of His Spirit every effort made for the 
good of anyone will not be without result. It is 
not learning nor the most choice language which 
alone accomplishes the best results. During the 
revival in Ireland, the land cursed by ignorance 
and Romanism, a poor Irishman was brought to 
accept Christ as his Saviour. He afterward went 
into some mills in Scotland and told the simple 
story of his conversion. Out of the thirteen hun- 
dred people employed in the mills where he spoke, 
six hundred were brought to Christ. The immortal 
Eongfellow has well said : 

“ I shot an arrow into the air, 

It fell to the earth, I knew not where ; 

For so swifty it flew, the sight 
Could not follow it in its flight. 


288 


BARON STIEGEL. 


“ I breathed a song into the air, 

It fell to the earth, I knew not where ; 

For who has sight so keen and strong 
That it can follow the flight of song ? 

“ Long, long afterward, in an oak, 

I found the arrow still unbroke ; 

And the song, from beginning to end, 

I found again in the heart of a friend.” 

The sermons Stiegel preached lived many years 
afterward, although he was a simple layman with- 
out a theological education. I do not mean that 
the Lord puts a premium on ignorance, or that a 
man needs no theological learning ; but I do mean 
that we cannot measure the preacher’s success by 
his learning. If the heart of the religious teacher 
is not in his work, whether he be in the home, in 
the Sunday school, or in the pulpit, although his 
rhetoric be perfect and the knowledge of his sub- 
ject most thorough, he may dazzle by his brilliancy, 
but he will win few to a godly life. Nothing can 
be more beautiful than the illuminated ice palace. 
The light that is reflected from buttress and pillar 
may dazzle, but it can never warm. 

We have said that Stiegel’s sermons continued to 
do good after the voice of the preacher was hushed. 
It has always been thus. The mightiest results of 
the Reformation appear to-day, three hundred and 


A PREACHER. 


289 


fifty-five years after the great Reformer’s death. 
One day a young boy planted a few violets in a 
corner of the garden adjacent to his home. Soon 
afterward he went to live many miles away. Years 
afterward the farm was abandoned, as are many 
New England farms ; but when the boy, now grown 
to be a man, returned to see the place of his birth, he 
found the old house torn down, but the place where 
the garden had been, and where he had planted 
the few simple violets, was covered with the sweet 
flowers. Blessed is that man whose life-work 
keeps on increasing in power and good results long 
after he is gone. 

Stiegel did not long continue the pastor of the 
Brickerville charge. An ordained minister came 
and took his place, but who can tell whether the 
whole of Stiegel’s previous life was not a prepara- 
tion for those few years of service. The period of 
work for some lives is very short, but the results of 
that work are lasting as eternity. Some men in the 
providence of God spend many years in preparation 
for a work which engages them only a few months 
or a few years, but generations reap the results of 
their labor. Sometimes a single act of a man’s life 
immortalizes him ; but it required years of prepara- 
tion before he was fitted for the one great act, or the 
world prepared to profit thereby. 

*9 


290 BARON STIEGEL. 

During all the time of Stiegel’s residence in the 
parsonage Nawadaha visited him but twice. She 
gave as her excuse that both he and she were 
now busy and well employed, and did not need 
each other as they once did. The frugal house- 
keeper lays by that which he may need some time, 
so it is well to realize that there is laid by a reserve 
of friendship and help which can be drawn upon 
whenever it is needed. These two lives were inter- 
ested in each other. Their affection for one another 
was such as will finally exist in that world where 
“ they neither marry nor are given in marriage, but 
are as the angels of God.” It is true it was not as 
pure, as heavenly, but it partook of the nature of that 
affection which exists between the saints perfected 
in light. For Nawadaha it was purely a disinter- 
ested friendship. It had in it an element of grati- 
tude ; and that strange affinity which comes to two 
hearts because of the love and friendship they both 
had for a third person. Stiegel always looked upon 
Nawadaha as his strongest earthly refuge. He 
knew that so long as Nawadaha’s heart beat, so long 
he had at least one soul to which he could turn in 
time of trouble. Blessed is that man who has such 
a friend. 

We leave Stiegel still at work in his parish ; but, 
as we have said, the time for a great change is rapidly 


A PREACHER. 


291 


approaching. Stiegel realizes this, and he looks 
into the future with some degree of apprehension ; 
but he trusts Him who has said, “ I will never leave 
thee, nor forsake thee.” 


CHAPTER XXV. 


REVERSES. 

Israel’s wisest king has said : “ Seest thou a 
man wise in his own conceit, there is more hope of 
a fool than of him.” This is true, because conceit 
is like a coat of mail round about its unhappy vic- 
tim. It prevents the gentle touch of the caressing 
hand of a friend, and the sharp but often salutary 
stroke of an enemy, to reach the man who is envel- 
oped therein. Fritz, ever since he had been making 
money and had become the proud possessor of his 
enemy’s wealth, was encased in so strong a self- 
esteem that neither friend nor foe could tell him of 
his faults nor do anything to correct them. He be- 
lieved that because fortune was once his handmaid 
she would ever be his mistress. For a time he 
seemed to be absolutely correct, for he seemed to 
have in his hand a magic wand which had the 
pow T er to transform common clay to gold ; but when 
Stiegel became the pastor at Brickerville, Fritz had 
a series of reverses. It is the province of this chap- 
ter to record some of these. 

(292) 


REVERSES. 


293 


The first of these reverses came to him the very 
Christmas eve upon which Stiegel came out of jail. 
His store, in what is now Pittsburg, was well 
stocked with goods received from the Indians by 
the traders who were in the employ of himself and 
two brothers. He had also received a whole 
schooner’s load of beads, firearms, cloth, and what- 
not, which he was in the habit of selling to the 
Indians at an enormous profit. On the Christmas 
eve referred to, his store caught fire and all therein 
was consumed in the flames. For a time there was 
great danger that the fire would spread to the ware- 
house in which the greater part of his imports were 
stored. Had this been the case, Fritz and his two 
brothers would have been hopelessly ruined. Fritz 
did not receive the news of this disaster until a 
week after it occurred. It was then that the wings 
of his self-conceit with which he had soared so high 
were in danger of melting and casting him help- 
lessly and hopelessly to earth ; but it was only for 
a moment. He soon recovered himself and was as 
confident as ever. He believed that his losses could 
be readily retrieved, and, by his good management, 
his wares be sold at a higher profit. 

A few days after the news of the fire he was con- 
siderably alarmed to hear that Stiegel had no good 
title to the property which he had taken from him. 


294 


BARON STlEGEE. 


The whole of the vast estates belonged to the heirs 
of William Penn, it was said, and the time had now 
come in which they would make good their claim ; 
but this proved to be a man of straw. It was shown, 
at little expense, that the title was secure enough. 

But now that fortune had become fickle there was 
no end to her pranks. He had boasted for years how 
very strong he had always been physically. During 
the worry of the events just mentioned his system 
lost its power to combat disease. A heavy cold 
contracted at this time sent him to bed and kept 
him there during many weeks, kike all men of 
his kind, Fritz had become very stingy with every 
dollar he gained ; but now that he was in danger 
of becoming an invalid, he realized that gold spent 
for the regaining of health was well invested. He 
had the best medical attention from Philadelphia. 
It cost him a great many dollars ; but at length he 
became better, and perhaps he appreciated his re- 
turning health more than ever before, for it is true 
that sleep, riches, and health are only truly enjoyed 
after they have been interrupted for a season. 

In the days of his sickness his proud heart was as 
obstinate as ever. He offered no petition to Him 
who holds our life in His hand ; and when he be- 
came strong and well, he did not recognize the 
mercy of his heavenly Father in his returned health. 


REVERSES. 


295 


He was as conceited in matters of religion as in every- 
thing else. He was better, he argued, than those who 
sang psalms and murmured prayers. u Some people 
need to be constantly praying ; but men who always 
did right need no Christ.” So he said, and so he 
believed, but those who knew him best realized that 
he was decidedly in need of a Saviour to deliver 
him from his conceited, evil self. Because he was 
rich, many called him honorable, and many waited 
for his smile, but few ever received it. The world 
pointed to the fields stretching far and wide that 
were his, and talked about the silver and gold that 
he had gathered. Fritz knew what the world said 
of him, and the secret language of his heart was, 
“ By my wisdom have I gotten all this.” He returned 
no thanks to God, and often in his heart he doubted 
His existence. For years he had felt that he did 
not need God, and so he lived unto himself, for 
himself. 

The snows had melted, except on the summit of 
the hills. The warm sunshine was causing the 
grass to put on the more life-like hue of green. 
The trailing arbutus was budding into its richest 
bloom and scenting the atmosphere with the prom- 
ise of coming spring. Fritz always persuaded him- 
self that he was a lover of nature ; although it is a 
question whether a man so thoroughly in love with 


296 


BARON STIEGER. 


himself could take delight in nature or anything 
that did not directly pay tribute to him. He deter- 
mined to walk into the forest with his dog, and 
enjoy the fresh resinous odor of the pines. He felt 
strong enough to go about as was his custom. 

He always went alone, even when he took long 
trips. He said he needed no cannon to herald his 
coming, as he never was and never cared to be a 
baron. True worth needed no cannon to make 
itself known, and, as for outriders and guards, 
honest men needed them not, and rogues they 
could never protect. So, as was his custom, he went 
alone on this trip. His dog scented a fox, and was 
soon far in advance ; but, by and by, Fritz noticed 
that the fox, or whatever animal he had been pur- 
suing, had taken refuge somewhere, for the dog’s 
howls and barks came from one spot. Although 
the place indicated was some distance away, Fritz 
determined to visit it. After half an hour’s brisk 
walk he reached a hillock, the principal part of 
which consisted of a pile of rocks. A hole, not 
large enough for the dog to enter, showed that some 
wild animal had evidently made the cave in the 
rocks its lair. As Fritz stood looking into the hole 
and trying to determine what animal could be 
within, he heard a low mournful cry, as of someone 
in distress, at some distance from the lair in the 


REVERSES. 


297 


rocks. Fritz had been a backwoodsman too long 
to be ignorant of that cry. He knew in an instant 
that it was the angry cry of a panther. He knew, 
too, that he was unarmed with the exception of a 
long hunting-knife. He therefore thought it best 
to escape while the infuriated animal was still at 
some distance. Calling his dog, he was about to 
move away ; but the dog was unwilling to come, 
evidently not hearing, or, at least, paying no atten- 
tion to the cries which were coming nearer and 
nearer. 

Whilst he was thus urging his dog to abandon 
his hunt for the animal in the rocks, he heard the 
shaking of the branches of the great trees not fifty 
feet away. At the same time the low mournful cry 
was changed into a shriek which made Fritz’s blood 
run cold. The dog at once turned, and, trembling 
violently from head to foot, his hair standing erect, 
ran to his master. There he took a position in 
front of him, and began to growl and watch the 
shaking of the branches as the huge panther, for 
such it was, jumped to the tree standing nearest the 
entrance to the lair. The truth flashed upon Fritz 
in an instant. The lair contained the panther’s 
kittens, and the infuriated animal would, in all 
probability, pursue those who had thus so insolently 
come to her home. Before he could determine 


298 


BARON STIEGER. 


what he had best do, there was another terrifying 
scream, and a dark body with distended claws 
bounded out of the branches of the tree and threw 
itself upon Fritz’s dog. There was a brief struggle, 
during which Fritz tried to get as far away as pos- 
sible, leaving his brave dog to its fate. He had 
gone only a few steps before all was over with the 
unselfish dog. Quite unexpectedly, the panther 
had again mounted the trees and was jumping 
from one to another in hot pursuit of Fritz, who 
was now thoroughly frightened by what was hap- 
pening, and utterly exhausted by his run. He stood 
still, awaiting the attack of the enraged animal, de- 
termined to plunge his hunting knife into its heart. 
He had not long to wait. Very soon the animal 
was glaring at him from the branch of a near-by 
tree, at the same time furiously lashing its sides 
with its tail and emitting the most terrifying cries. 
In another moment it leaped high in the air, but 
fell pierced with a rifle-ball which had entered its 
heart during the instant that its body was shooting 
through the air. 

Fritz was so terrified that he did not hear the 
shot from his deliverer’s gun, but, at the same time 
that the panther fell to the ground, the man who 
had so often boasted of his courage, and who, we 
will admit, had been in many dangerous places be- 


REVERSES. 


299 


fore, tottered to a near-by tree and leaned heavily 
against it. This conduct on the part of Fritz was 
partly owing to his exhausted condition, resulting 
from his long illness, and partly from the cowardice 
of his nature. It is true, the fact that he was inef- 
ficiently armed was enough to strike terror to the 
heart of any man in the presence of so terrible a foe. 

By the time that Fritz had recovered his self- 
possession, the man who had shot the panther stood 
before him. We can readily imagine the surprise 
of both when they recognized one another ; for 
Fritz’s deliverer was none other than Stiegel. The 
Baron had attended a funeral in the hills and was 
returning on horseback along the narrow mountain 
road. He had heard the cry of the panther, and, 
when he came into the clearing, he saw the infuri- 
ated animal leap from the tree upon the poor dog. 
He had been in the forest so often that he knew the 
dangers of going without a rifle, even though he 
went to perform the last sad rites for a parishioner. 

Stiegel was the first to speak. He said : “ I am 
glad that I arrived in time, for so enraged an animal 
as this would have been more than a match for 
you and your knife.” Fritz said that, whilst he was 
grateful to Stiegel, he felt that he would have been 
victor, even though it had been at the expense of 
some blood. But Stiegel knew Fritz better than 


300 


BARON STIEGEL. 


he knew himself ; for he plainly saw that he was 
not only terrified, but actually exhausted ; so he 
passed his bravado without making a direct reply, 
but answered it in part by offering the horse upon 
which he had ridden to Fritz. He said he had 
heard of Fritz’s long illness and was surprised to 
see him in the forest all alone, so early in the season. 

Fritz in part resented his kind interest in him by 
telling him that his habits of life had been such, 
and he had been sick so seldom, that he was conva- 
lescing very rapidly. He could not think of accept- 
ing Stiegel’s horse to ride back to the Furnaces. 
So Stiegel mounted his animal himself, and, at first, 
rode no faster than Fritz walked ; but when he 
noticed a reluctance on the part of Fritz to accom- 
pany him, he left him to himself and rode away. 

Fritz arrived at his boarding place after dark, and 
after everyone in the house had become anxious 
about him. He ate a scant supper and retired, 
greatly the worse for his afternoon’s experiences. 
We may say that the effect of his encounter with 
the panther did much to shatter his nervous system, 
which had already been weakened by his long 
illness. 

Stiegel went home greatly pleased that he had 
been able to heap coals of fire upon his enemy’s 
head. He believed that he had saved Fritz’s life. 


REVERSES. 


3 ox 


He felt that even if it had been true that, as Fritz 
asserted, he had caused the condemnation of the 
latter because of the testimony he bore in his 
youth, in court, he had now paid the debt, if debt 
it had been, by delivering Fritz from the panther’s 
fangs. Stiegel waited some days for the appearance 
of Fritz at the Furnaces, and, when he did not ap- 
pear, he made up his mind to call on him ; for he 
felt that, as a minister of the Gospel, he must show 
Fritz that he bore him no ill will. So, one sunny 
afternoon in April, he went to Fritz’s boarding 
place and asked the landlady to carry his card to 
Fritz, who was sitting in an adjacent room to the 
one into which Stiegel had entered. Fritz returned 
the card, saying that he was not in the mood to 
entertain, and business he did not care to have with 
a man of Stiegel’s standing. We need not say that 
the Baron was deeply wounded. He believed that 
he had done his duty, and from henceforth he re- 
solved not to trouble him. To this resolve he 
rigidly adhered. 

It may be necessary to say that Fritz still lived 
in Lancaster, and, when he came to the Furnaces, 
he boarded with the superintendent. When he be- 
came convalescent, he made up his mind that he 
would regain his health more quickly by coming to 
the country than by remaining in town. This ac- 


3°2 


BARON STIEGEE. 


counts for his long stay at the Furnaces at this 
time. 

I do not know that Stiegel would have felt sad 
had he known, the day he saved the life of Fritz, 
that he would behold his face no more ; and yet 
there is a sadness which gathers around all things 
final. There is not a sunset that is not fraught 
with solemn lessons to the thoughtful. I am sure 
that Stiegel would have asked himself that day, 
had he known it to be his last meeting with Fritz, 
whether he had really done all things for the man 
he could. 

Stiegel could never have taken Fritz into his 
friendship. We have learned too much already 
concerning the two men to need any argument to 
convince us of the truth of that matter. It is not 
expected that all men are to be equally dear to us 
or equally esteemed by us. Our Ford does not 
mean that when He says : “ Love your enemies.” 
He does not substitute a vague principle of univer- 
sal love in the room of those special affections 
which arise either out of similarity in tempera- 
ment or from special kindnesses shown. He does, 
however, forbid hatred altogether, no matter what 
causes there may be to provoke it. As a follower 
of his Master, Stiegel could not hate Fritz, any 
more than he could have left him to his fate that 


REVERSES. 


303 


day he saw him in danger. It is in a sense natural 
to hate our enemies ; but it is natural because our 
better nature is perverted by the presence of sin. 

One of the saddest reflections that can come to 
us is that which is forced upon us when we see 
members of the same church, both professing to be 
on their way to heaven, yet unwilling to speak 
to each other. How can there be heaven for 
two such people who can never be willing to show 
even common courtesy in this world ? In the heart 
of every true child of God there is that pitying, 
yearning, compassionate love which does good to 
all and which strives to make all better. When 
two persons absolutely refuse to speak to each other, 
it is a proof that they do not have an iota of the 
love of their heavenly Father and are, therefore, 
none of His. The Christian does not hate even 
the enemies of God. He does hate their evil deeds, 
but not the persons themselves. 

We have seen that Fritz had his reverses, but 
none of his losses — the loss of any part of his wealth, 
the loss of his health — was so serious as the loss of 
his opportunities to be reconciled to the man he 
hated, and hated without cause. Hate must at 
some time become self-punishment ; for has not 
Christ said : “ If ye forgive not men their tres- 
passes, neither will your Father forgive your tres- 


3°4 


BARON STIEGEE. 


passes ? ” An unforgiving heart is, in the sight of 
God, meet for the kingdom of darkness. A soul 
needs no other sin to keep it out of the kingdom 
of heaven so long as it remains guilty of this one. 
We trust that everyone of our readers may take 
this truth to heart, for the unforgiving heart is, 
alas, so common. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 


VICTORY. 

After Stiegel had occupied the important office 
of pastor for two years the people at Brickerville 
received their ordained preacher, and the Baron, in 
consequence, was without a field of labor. But it 
was not long before a new position was offered him. 
We have already spoken of the tower which the 
Baron had erected at Schaefferstown, in his more 
prosperous days. When he lost his place as pastor 
the tower was not used for any purpose, and, as 
there was no parochial school in the village, Stiegel 
rented the disused building and started a school 
in it. 

There is, perhaps, no higher position than that 
of the true teacher. We are safe in saying that 
there is no higher office in all the world, for the 
pastor and preacher are both teachers. So Stiegel 
was still a preacher because he was a teacher, but 
henceforth he was to confine his teaching to more 
receptive minds. There is no time like youth for 
the acquisition of knowledge, nor is there a time 
20 ( 305 ) 


3°6 


BARON STIEGEE. 


when one must be more careful what is taught, be- 
cause that which is learned in youth cannot be un- 
learned in a whole lifetime. Those people who 
say that a child is not ready to be taught religion, 
simply because it cannot discern good from evil 
and does not apprehend the truth of what is taught, 
have patented one of the worst lies that the devil 
has ever invented, and have been the ruin of many 
immortal souls. The teacher is very much like the 
switchman who holds the switches on the railroad : 
if he understands his work and does his duty faith- 
fully, all will be well ; but if he neglects it, many 
precious lives will be lost. 

In those days the text books in the school were 
the Bible as reading book, the speller, and the arith- 
metic. The pastor taught the Catechism generally, 
but now and then the duty devolved upon the 
school-teacher. It is a question whether we have 
improved very much by our substitution of text 
books in reading. Some of the sublimest thoughts 
which can stimulate the intellect are contained in 
the Bible, and, when read aright, they give as much 
drill in elocution as that offered by our readers of 
to-day. It is remarkable how our reading matter 
in the school readers has degenerated in the last 
fifty years. The moral and religious sentiment 
which pervaded those books years ago has now 


VICTORY. 


3°7 


largely disappeared. In this respect Stiegel had 
the advantage over our modern teachers. Nor 
could only certain portions of the Bible be read, as 
is the case now in some States of the Union. The 
infidelic sentiment prevails to such an extent, or 
there are Roman Catholics, or Jews, that, if the 
Bible is read at all, it must be confined to the 
Psalms of David. 

Stiegel taught in the tower for some months, and 
managed to make enough to supply all his wants 
and pay off his floating indebtedness besides. The 
fact that he was at last free from debt contributed 
more to his happiness than all else. He felt better 
and freer from care in those days than when he was 
the possessor of the large fortune which we saw so 
ruthlessly swept from his hands. He now knew 
the meaning of the text, “ Godliness with content- 
ment is great gain.” 

After awhile Stiegel heard that there was a bet- 
ter opening for a teacher in a village about ten 
miles away, than in the place he had been conduct- 
ing his school. He determined to remove thither, 
and, if possible, add to his work branches that were 
not generally taught in the schools of those days. 
Whilst a resident in Berks County, to which he 
went after leaving Schaefferstown, he taught music 
and the higher branches of mathematics. He 


3°8 


BARON STlEGEE. 


always had pupils in the more advanced branches 
of mathematics. 

The pleasure he derived from teaching music 
was far in excess of his gains in money. The 
sweetest music is not the peal of the marriage bells, 
nor the harmony that comes from the most costly 
piano, nor the trumpet tones of victory. The 
sweetest music is the strain which evokes the best 
and tenderest emotions in the human soul. Such 
being the case, Stiegel could discern melodies in 
the crude attainments of his pupils which others 
who heard them did not catch. The simplest 
strains filled his soul with tender memories, and, 
therefore, evoked the nobler and better nature 
which he now so assiduously cultivated. In those 
days Stiegel played his violin constantly ; nor were 
they the light airs, even then so popular, that he 
loved to evoke from his instrument. The sublimer 
and more pathetic strains, so in accord with his feel- 
ings, were those which he loved to play. His soul 
seemed to catch the very thoughts which were in 
the minds of the authors who wrote the music. To 
him it seemed as if the old masters came back out 
of the eternal world to which they had long gone and 
showed themselves to him in all the greatness of their 
Spiritual life, in and through the music he played. 

Plato says, “ Can a man help imitating that with 


VICTORY. 


309 


which he holds converse ?” So, because of his 
converse, Stiegel became more refined and more 
spiritual day by day. It is true that “ Music is a 
moral law. It gives a soul to the universe, wings 
to the mind, flight to the imagination, a charm to 
sadness, gayety and life to everything. It is the 
essence of order, and leads to all that is good, just, 
and beautiful.” 

This art, this acquisition, which Stiegel made 
in the days of his youth, when the practice often 
became a burden rather than a delight, was now 
the charm of his life, both for himself and for those 
around him. If he had dwelt in a forest far from 
human habitation, and the world could have heard 
the strains which floated from his violin, it would 
have worn a path over rocks and through hedges to 
his door ; because the world loves music. It will be 
one of the delights of heaven, and its absence in 
the world of the lost one of the direst punishments 
of hell. 

Stiegel now also knew how blessed it is to learn 
to do something in youth which will be a charm 
and a help to others. He had not believed in his 
youth, when he dwelt in the lap of luxury and ease, 
that his ability to play would ever be a profit in so 
many ways in his after-life. If youth would only 
realize the importance of learning to do something 


3 IQ 


BARON STlEGEl,. 


which will make life truly useful, there would not 
be so many wrecks on life’s sea, so many useless 
beggars living on the charity of those who make 
good use of time and talent. 

Stiegel was now an old man. He had entered 
the jail at Lancaster, more than five years ago, a 
comparatively young man ; he had emerged from 
his place of confinement spiritually richer and 
purer, but physically old and impoverished. The 
stoop he acquired within those walls, as, with folded 
hands behind his back, he walked pensively to and 
fro, or huddled before the fire, had settled perma- 
nently upon his shoulders. The load he carried 
in those days upon his heart left its impress upon 
his manly shoulders, and pressed them forward to- 
ward the grave. For this reason Stiegel was now 
an old man, although he was not far beyond the 
meridian of his life. The world had more use for 
old men in those days than now. It realized that 
wisdom comes with experience. Whilst knowledge 
may be the adornment of youth, wisdom comes 
from experience, and experience comes with years. 
If Stiegel had had the energy and physical power 
he once possessed, his years would not have been 
an element of hindrance and disqualification in his 
work, as is so often the case in our day. 

Stiegel was not surprised nor saddened by the 


VICTORY. 


3 11 

knowledge that his physical powers were waning. 
He knew that the time for his departure would 
certainly come at some day and hour, and he knew 
that, trusting in God, it would be the best day 
and hour. He knew that death for the believer is 
only the beginning of a new and a fuller life, or, 
rather, it is the taking away of the hindrances 
which kept the life imparted by the Spirit from 
developing in its God-given powers. 

It was about this time that Stiegel heard that 
his old enemy, Fritz, was no more. For more than 
two years he had been an invalid. The malady 
which he had contracted before Stiegel delivered 
him from the panther was of a slow but most 
deadly kind. God in His goodness had given him 
a long time for repentance, but he had so hardened 
his heart that he never uttered a prayer for forgive- 
ness or realized that he was a sinner. He had had 
every opportunity for knowing the error of his 
ways and for turning to the Ford, but he had re- 
sisted to the last. 

It is true, he said, he was as good as anyone else, 
but he showed by his life that he did not know his 
depraved nature. His life yielded none of the 
fruits of the Spirit, which, the apostle says, are 
“love, joy, peace, long-suffering, kindness, goodness, 
faithfulness, meekness, and temperance.” 


312 


BARON STIEGEE. 


When at last he realized that he must die, he 
requested that no clergyman officiate at his funeral ; 
but when told by his brothers that this wish could 
not be granted, he asked that the service be brief 
as possible. When asked whether he did not wish 
anyone to pray for him, now that he must die, he 
said he did not know that he had injured anyone ; 
he had never taken anything that did not belong 
to him, and that he had simply defended his own 
rights, years before, when he slew a man. Thus he 
tried to lull to sleep the little conscience that he 
still possessed, and so he went into eternity. 

His wealth, which became a golden shackle 
whereby his soul was bound the more firmly to 
earth, had done him no little harm. Instead of 
being a blessing, it became a curse. Like the man 
in the parable who had received one pound, he had 
hid his Lord’s money in the earth of his own self- 
ish nature. He had made no will, and so all his 
property became the possession of his two brothers. 
It is not in the province of this story to follow their 
lives to the close ; but it can be said that they 
were better men and improved their opportunities, 
even though they did not get the highest good from 
their possessions, simply because they did not use 
them for the greatest good of the greatest number. 

We cannot say that Stiegel would have attended 


VICTORY. 


3*3 

the funeral of the man who might have befriended 
him in the hour of adversity, but who chose rather 
to destroy him ; but we do know that Stiegel, when 
he heard that Fritz was dead and buried, thought 
long and seriously of the life that had gone out. 
He asked himself whether he had done all he could 
to rescue Fritz from his peril. He admitted to 
himself that he had not ; but it was now too late to 
spend any time in vain regrets. 

There are many of us who, like Stiegel, have 
those about us whom we know can never enter 
heaven, in their impenitence and hardness of 
heart ; but we excuse ourselves from doing any- 
thing to deliver them from themselves, until we 
hear that the brittle thread which bound them to 
earth has been snapped, and then we spend more 
time in vain regrets than we ever spent in prayer 
for their conversion. I am afraid that God will 
require the blood of some of the souls that go down 
to eternal death from the hands of some of His 
professed followers. Is it that we have lost faith 
in the Word of God ? Do we believe that the pun- 
ishment of the wicked will, after all, not be as long 
or as severe as the Bible asserts ? There are very 
many of Christ’s professed followers who say they 
believe the Bible, but their daily conduct toward 
the impenitent belies the profession of their faith. 


3*4 


BARON STIEGEL. 


Stiegel still kept on with his work. The leaves 
began to put on the brighter hues, which, like the 
flushed cheek of the consumptive, indicate death 
rather than life. By and by they drifted, brown and 
seered, at the mercy of the bitter autumn winds, 
and Stiegel somehow realized that before nature 
would again bud into newness of life he would be 
swept into another world ; even as the leaves which 
were driven before the wintry winds were gathered 
into heaps to decay and be no more, so he would 
soon be with the countless generations that had 
gone before. 

During the hazy days of Indian summer, when 
the warmth of the longer and sunnier days lingers 
for a moment, as it were, to bid adieu to the earth 
before it must give place to the rigors of king win- 
ter, Stiegel received a visitor at the little log school- 
house where he was dispensing knowledge to the 
youths of the community. This visitor was more 
welcome than anyone else in all the world could 
have been. The reader can guess who the visitor 
was — Nawadaha — the woman who, aside from his 
mother, had always been the most devoted friend of 
Stiegel’s life. 

Nawadaha had been on a visit to her friends, the 
girls who had shared her captivity among the In- 
dians. Ten years had passed away and they had 


VICTORY. 


3 X 5 


not seen each other. Occasionaly the stage brought 
a letter, telling something of the life each was 
living. Letters only partially represent their 
authors, who are always greater or smaller than the 
epistles they send. Letters are like windows in a 
house : they allow the outside world to look in upon 
the home life of those within, but, at best, the vision 
is imperfect because indistinct. So with letters, 
they allow the reader to see something of the soul 
that lives in and behind them, but the view at best 
is only partial. They always suggest more than 
they express. So it was with the letters which 
passed, and seldom passed, between the females who 
for so many months had been so closely associated. 
It was therefore a treat for two of these women to 
see each other face to face, and in memory together 
live over some of the days and scenes which they 
had seen in all their stern realities, when it was 
doubtful whether they would ever see their best 
friends again. 

We have said that two of these women looked 
into each other’s faces. We have spoken the truth, 
for the third had given her heart to a wild Indian 
chieftain during the days of her captivity, and so 
she pined for the mate in the forest, the man who 
held the destinies of her life. She was a good illus- 
tration of the power of surroundings in early life 


BARON STIEGEL. 


316 

overcoming and leading captive the powers of 
heredity. After the first few months of home life 
in civilization, the younger of the sisters realized 
that she could not be happy even in the presence of 
the tender love of her mother and sister. She began 
to pine for the wild, free life of the forest. After a 
time she received the consent to join a body of 
traders who were going to what was then the far 
West. Her mother knew some of those traders, 
and was assured that her daughter would be safe in 
their company. They gave her their word that they 
would bring her daughter back if, when she once 
more saw the reality of the life of privation she had 
been compelled to live, she was willing to go back. 
Hardships are like dark clouds at sunset, they may 
take upon them a rosy hue because of the indistinct 
light and at the distance at which we behold them. 
When they were right around and above us they 
were only dull, dark clouds for whose departure we 
were grateful ; but now that the fading light of the 
sun is pillowed upon them they borrow attractive- 
ness they never possessed. So even our greatest 
hardships take upon them a roseate hue when they 
are long past. 

But the maiden who left her home in the East, 
after many days of travel and not a few hardships, 
found her lover. It is said the Indian never forgets 


VICTORY. 


317 


a kindness any more than he forgives an injury. 
When he loves, he loves as loyally as the most de- 
voted of his pale-faced brethren. Whether this is 
really so, I am not able to tell, but I do know that 
this maiden’s lover remained true to her all the 
months of their separation. He believed the word 
of her promise, that some time, if alive, they would 
meet again. So we leave her, joined to her dusky 
lover. Whether she succeeded in making his heart 
more tender toward the pale-faces is not in the 
province of this narrative to state. 

The visit of Nawadaha to the sister who had been 
too far advanced in life to ever forget the ways of 
civilized men and women, and who in consequence 
cared no more to return to the hardships of life in 
the forest, was on the occasion of her marriage to a 
man whom as a boy she had learned to love. 
Though Nawadaha always felt sad when she at- 
tended a wedding, because it reminded her of the 
happy, sunny days when she, too, was a bride, she 
did go to see her friend at the time when she was 
to join her life inseparably to the man of her choice. 
Her own life was at best a lonely journey to the 
better land, where she felt assured she would meet 
the one for whom her heart yearned. Though her 
life was tender and her thoughts mellowed by the 
sad experiences of her youth, her yearnings were 


BARON STIKGKI.. 


318 

heavenward, where she believed she would again 
take up the warp and woof that death had so ruth- 
lessly severed. 

We cannot dwell upon the pleasant experiences of 
that visit made to the friend of her captivity ; but 
she was made intensely happy by the message 
which came to her from the old Indian chieftain 
whom she had once nursed in a fever, and whom 
she had led to Christ, the man who had said at her 
departure from captivity : “ Daughter of the pale- 
face, child of my heart, I leave you. In the far- 
away land of the Great Spirit I will again greet 
you. Your Saviour has become my Saviour, for 
you told me that He died for the sins of the Red- 
man also.” He sent her a message, which she re- 
ceived during the days of her sojourn with her 
friend. It was, “ Tell Nawadaha I die with the as- 
surance that the Saviour of the pale-face is the Red- 
man’s Saviour also.” 

Nawadaha felt that, after all, her captivity 
was arranged by Providence so that out of the 
depth of the forest there might come to the 
crown of her rejoicing one bright jewel as a 
diamond dug from the deepest mines of earth. 
Christ said that one soul is worth more than the 
whole world. Nawadaha had therefore gained 
more in the winning of that one soul than if she 


VICTORY. 319 

had become rich in this world’s goods, as Fritz 
had become. 

After Nawadaha had spent some weeks with her 
friend she started on her home journey, having deter- 
mined to visit Stiegel on the way. We have already 
seen that she arrived at his little school-house and 
received a warm welcome. She spent the remainder 
of the day, when Stiegel was not engaged in school 
work, in conversation with the Baron. We have 
in every instance in our acquaintance with this 
woman seen the greatness of her character. This 
nobility of soul was never more manifest to Stiegel 
than at this time. All his conversation with her 
showed her to have profited with each experience 
in all her varied life. As the pebble that is rolled 
helplessly along at the bottom of the stream be- 
comes rounded and a thing of beauty by the very 
rough usage which it endures without ever par- 
taking of the nature of the rocks or the waters over 
which and through which it passes, so this woman 
had become morally and spiritually better by the 
very experiences which destroy other lives. 

In looking back over our lives we often find that 
some of the experiences which we at the time so 
much dreaded, and considered the most hopeless and 
barren, were in reality the very best. They devel- 
oped powers within us that we were not even con- 


320 


BARON STIEGEL. 


scious of possessing, and energies of which we had 
never dreamed. So it had been in the life of this 
woman. 

Long they talked of the true hearts they had 
loved, and in the efforts to follow those lives into 
the unseen and eternal they seemed to catch glimpses 
of the unseen world and to hear snatches of its music. 
But this visit did more for them ; for it revealed 
each to the other, so that they knew each other bet- 
ter and felt surer of one another. In this life few 
people can really know us. Just as the traveler 
who paces the strand cannot know the majesty and 
sublimity of the ocean from the spray that dashes 
at his feet, or from the waters that are fringed all 
too soon by the horizon, so most of those whom we 
call our friends see us at our worst or perchance at 
our best ; but those who live with us day by day 
know the sublimity or the shallowness of our 
nature. 

Nawadaha spent two days in the society of Stie- 
gel. For the greater part of that time the snow 
fell, not constantly, but in squalls, and now and 
then as if all the gray clouds were emptying, dis- 
solving into fleecy flakes. When at last it cleared 
and the sun winked from ten thousand prisms of 
ice, our heroine started on her journey to the city 
of Lancaster. The leaves, which had fallen before 


VICTORY. 


321 


she started on her visit, were now buried beneath 
the pure white, and the ferns, which had nodded 
along- the forest road at her as she went, were now 
tucked beneath their white coverlets, soft and 
warm. Nawadaha realized the change from autumn 
to winter ; and she wondered whether the season 
itself was not a prophecy of what might come to 
the life of the old man she had left in the little log 
school-house. Might not his life, which had been 
the sport of austere fortune for years, disappear 
from the earth before the blossoms would again 
come? 

The day after she left Stiegel, Nawadaha was in 
the old place behind the counter, weighing out 
herbs and drugs, with which she was becoming 
more and more familiar every day, and with the 
efficacy of which she did much to relieve her 
customers from suffering. “ Nothing,” says Vol- 
taire, “ is more estimable than a physician who, 
having studied nature from his youth, knows the 
properties of the human body, the diseases which 
assail it, the remedies which will benefit it, exer- 
cises his art with caution, and pays equal attention 
to the rich and the poor.” 

Nawadaha was not a learned physician, but she 
had become a good nurse, from long practice, and 
had learned to know the symptoms of disease. In 
21 


322 


BARON STIEGEE. 


addition to this she had, as we have already said, at 
her command the whole materia medica of the In- 
dian herb doctor. It is no wonder, therefore, that 
she became daily more proficient in her art, and 
more sought after by her neighbors. When she 
went away, which was seldom, there were always 
those who regretted to see her go ; and when she 
came back there were always those who rejoiced 
to see her return. 

It is true, those days of her increasing usefulness 
had their shadows, but they had much cheer and 
sunshine. Her life now held great privileges, but 
it also brought her grave responsibilities. What 
she did she wrought in the spirit of love, and so 
her burdens did not chafe nor her trials harass. It 
is true, as Drummond has said, “ The moments 
that stand out in your life, the moments when you 
have really lived, are the moments when you have 
done things in a spirit of love.” Because she did 
what she did in the spirit of love she lived so rich 
a life even in the days of her greatest care and 
heaviest labors. 

There are lives which have grown old in the ser- 
vice of their fellows. Sometimes these lives pine 
for the blessing, they suppose, of absolute rest. 
They think their lives would yield them much 
more if they could retire from their burdens and 


VICTORY. 


323 


simply rest. Deluded by this fancy, in a moment 
of great weariness, they abandon their work and 
retire ; but they soon realize that it was only whilst 
they were intensely busy that they were really 
happy. Sometimes such people succeed in getting 
back into the busy stream of life and labor, and 
recover their old peace ; more frequently they lan- 
guish along life’s highway and then drop into an 
untimely grave. It is true, some people can play 
at living all their day and then go into eternity, 
learning for the first time that they have made a 
serious failure and incurred irreparable loss. For 
such, in the end, life is a disappointment. 

We must leave Nawadaha in her little store and 
at the bedside of the sick, and once more turn our 
attention to the man who is wrestling with the 
ignorance of young intellects and the growing in- 
firmities of age. The life of a teacher is never a 
summer day of ease, but rather a day of toil in 
harvest, which, though rich in fruit, is still a day 
of toil. Stiegel was compelled several times, before 
the glad Christmas tide, to close his school and 
keep in his home, either nursing a cold or a more 
serious infirmity. When the Christmas holidays 
came, the time when Stiegel was always busiest, 
the old school-master, as he was now called, was at 
his post of duty and of honor. He sang with more 


BARON STIEGEL. 


324 

strength and in richer tones than he had done dur- 
ing all the winter. He seemed to enter into the 
depth of meaning in his song more fully. So the 
glad season sped along. Stiegel was happy because 
he felt that he was adding to the happiness of those 
around him. 

When the time came for the opening of the little 
school, after the New Year had begun, Stiegel was 
unable to resume his work. For more than two 
weeks it was hoped by the patrons of the school, 
as well as by Stiegel himself, that each day would 
be the last of his illness, and he would be able to 
resume his work ; but at the end of two weeks he 
suddenly took a turn for the worse, and those who 
knew him best began now to realize that he had 
himself learned the last lesson in the school of sor- 
row, and that he would teach no more. At the end 
of the third week of his protracted illness, the 
news came from his home that during the night 
the last debt, the debt to nature, had been quietly 
paid by the Baron, and his soul had entered upon 
its eternal rest. No one had seen him die. He 
was old and he was comparatively poor, and not 
with those who had known him for years, so that 
the watchers at his bedside were always few. It 
was, therefore, no surprise that he died alone. We 
say he died alone ; but no good man has ever died 


VICTORY. 


325 


alone. God and heaven never for a moment neg- 
lect their own. No Christian can die alone. 
Heaven sends its convoy of angels. It was no 
wonder, therefore, that the old man, who had so 
seldom smiled during the days of his labor among 
comparative strangers, now had a sweet smile fixed 
upon his pale features. When the good die the 
glad smile of greeting to heaven’s visitants remains 
upon the features. This was the reason a smile was 
indelibly fixed on Stiegel’s sad and wan features. 

Two days after his death he was borne to the 
hill-side graveyard in the little village in which he 
had spent the last two years of his eventful life. 
Though he was poor, and though he had died 
alone, there were many who came to pay their last 
respects to their teacher and the organist of the 
Lutheran Church. All the pupils that he had in- 
structed, whether in music or in the branches of 
common school work, who could, came and marched 
next to the coffin. Thus he was borne to his last 
resting-place by the hands of strangers and with- 
out a single friend of his earlier years to do him 
reverence. There was one sincere friend who 
would have braved the snow-storms that were just 
then raging, and have wept at his grave-side, but she 
did not hear of his death until the snow had covered 
the fresh earth and concealed the horrid heap. 


326 


BARON STIEGEE. 


So died, and thus was buried, the hero of our 
story. In the sense that the world regards a suc- 
cessful life, Stiegel’s life was a failure. No won- 
der that one of the local historians, who commented 
on his career, closed his comments by saying : “ So 
gehts dem Mensch ” (such is the fate of man). 
Yet, with it all, who that knows the full, deep 
meaning of life but will declare that Stiegel’s life 
was truly and in the best sense a successful 
life ? He began life with a fortune, and, for years 
in his career, he added to that fortune ; then, par- 
tially because of his own carelessness and partially 
because of the cupidity of others, he saw that for- 
tune pass from his hands, and himself without 
power to grasp or stay the waste. Some men, when 
they lose the earnings of a lifetime, are utterly over- 
come and drop into an untimely grave, or, what is 
worse, they lose their reason. Stiegel, as we have 
seen, did neither. 

In addition to the loss of his fortune, he was 
deprived of that which money cannot buy, the 
love of a true woman. Just as he had entered 
upon the full fruition of a life concerning which 
he had often dreamed, as every youth dreams, 
all his hopes and dreams are blasted by the 
icy hand of death. We have learned in these 
pages how the arrow was withdrawn and how 


VICTORY. 327 

time could procure no healing salve to the gaping 
wound. 

Not less severe was the last and, perhaps, for his 
proud nature, the unkindest cut of all, his im- 
prisonment for a period of more than two years. 
Surely anyone of these three great trials which 
came to his life would have been sufficient to crush 
most men. For Stiegel, on the other hand, they 
accomplished that which in the providence of God 
they were sent to accomplish. They taught him 
the vanity of all earthly things, and planted his 
feet upon the eternal Rock, Christ Jesus. 

Thus it was that his Christian character was 
established. Each new sorrow, after he had once 
turned to Christ, only made him more firm in his 
determination not to be defeated in his desire for 
eternal life. Whilst all that earth can give slipped 
from his grasp, he himself became more enduring 
than any work of man. The promise, “ He that 
endureth to the end shall be saved,” was pre-emi- 
nently his promise. He continued in a lively and 
steadfast faith through all his afflictions. He 
never doubted God’s love. Though conquered, he 
was the true conquerer. 

Stiegel had laid the foundation of a true historic 
faith in the catechetical instructions by his own 
pastor in the Fatherland. He experienced its sav- 


328 


BARON STIEGEL,. 


in g power that awful night he expected death from 
the hands of savage foes. This faith became his 
shield with which he was able to quench all the 
fiery darts which were so assiduously hurled at 
him during all his life of financial failure and 
shame. It always helped him in his endeavors to 
surmount his difficulties and in turning his defeats 
into victories. To him, as to every true believer, 
it was “the substance of things hoped for, the 
evidence of things not seen.” 

His life was the best evidence of what affliction 
can do in transforming the earthly into the heav- 
enly. For many years it was a mystery, and no 
one could tell from whence Solomon took the beau- 
tiful stone with which he constructed the temple. 
The mountains round about Jerusalem are all lime- 
stone, but it is not pearly white as were the stones 
in that wonderful temple. One day a missionary’s 
dog chased a wild animal just outside the Damascus 
Gate. The animal and dog disappeared in the hill- 
side. That same night the missionary and his two 
sons solved the mystery as to where Solomon re- 
ceived his building stones. They discovered the 
quarries of Solomon beneath the city of Jerusalem. 
Away from the light of day, in the heart of the 
earth, the workmen of that great and wise builder 
fashioned the stones for the glorious temple. When 


VICTORY. 


329 


they were all hewn and polished, they were hoisted 
from the deep, dark cavern and put into the place 
prepared for them. 

So the heavenly Builder, Christ Jesus, is prepar- 
ing the stones for the New Jerusalem ; or had we 
not better say He is preparing the glorious inhabi- 
tants for that heavenly city, down here on earth. 
Affliction, trial, and disappointment are the work- 
men which under God are fashioning the inhabi- 
tants for the glorious habitation. So Stiegel was 
prepared, and so thousands in all the ages have 
been and will be made ready for the heavenly 
Jerusalem, which will finally come down from God 
out of heaven, as a bride prepared for her husband. 
Since this is the office of affliction, and the Bible 
assures that it is, why not rejoice that we are 
counted worthy to endure affliction ? 

Any circumstance in life which by the help of 
the Holy Spirit aids one in overcoming the world, 
the flesh, and the devil, ought not to be regarded a 
disappointment or a great trial. It ought be hailed 
as a stepping-stone in the way to the celestial city. 
You, dear reader, have learned the richest and most 
profitable lesson of your life when once you have 
learned that the disappointments and trials of this 
life are God’s messengers to work out for you the 
exceeding and the enduring glory. 


330 


BARON STIEGEL. 


Travelers in the Orient can see the palm lift its 
head far out in the desert. Sometimes these mon- 
archs of the desert stand round about villages. 
Sometimes they are found without a clump of grass 
or any other evidence of life about them. Far and 
wide there is nothing to be seen save the appar- 
ently interminable sands of the mighty desert ; and 
above them the sun glows like a seven-times heated 
furnace, day by day, and month by month ; and 
yet the palm lifts its green head as if rejoicing in 
the vigor of its life when all around it is dead. Its 
large clusters of dates are sweet and juicy. It ful- 
fills the end of its creation under what appears to 
the untutored the most adverse surroundings, but 
what are really the best conditions for the maturity 
of its fruits. The roots of the palm are deeply im- 
bedded in soil far beneath the glowing sands. Its 
life is fed by the secret water-courses beneath the 
burning bosom of the desert. 

So Stiegel continued to bring forth the fruits of 
the Spirit, when everything about him seemed to 
be sapping his very life. But it was these adverse 
conditions which were the best adapted for the matur- 
ing of his spiritual life. The source of his strength, 
unlike these of the palm, were from above, but to 
the untutored they were just as hidden. Who, 
therefore, would assert that his life was a failure ? 


VICTORY. 


331 


Life’s delights are like the flowers that endure 
for a day, but fade with the setting of the sun. 
The world’s honors are but a mausoleum in which 
is the record of forgotten names. Real life is found 
in Christ and the doing of God’s will. Let us 
make the words of the great apostle to the Gentiles 
the motto of our lives: “ I live; yet not I, but 
Christ liveth in me.” 


THE END. 





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